


Dead Men Walking

by bookish_cupcake



Series: Liars and Mad Men [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, Norse Mythology
Genre: Gen, Jotun!Loki, Loki's Kids, M/M, Norse mythology twisting, Sailor Pluto is from Gallifrey, Stars, Trust Issues, add character tags as I go, end of the worlds, eventual slash, minor crossovers with no experience needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-18 12:10:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookish_cupcake/pseuds/bookish_cupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki and the Doctor are presumed dead, and Loki intends on keeping it that way. The universe has different plans— like ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Passing Days

Dead Men Walking

The inevitable end  
The days spent among friends  
The strife between siblings  
The light of the stars  
Even time itself  
Everything must come to an end

**Chapter One: Passing Days**

Precisely five days passed since the escape from the planet Galik thanks to a certain God of Mischief's quick thinking and magic. The gloating hadn't stopped, even has his sipped a smoothie in a little café.

"As I recall, you used the terms 'dead men walking' and 'low profile,' my good Doctor. You did a marvelous job of doing the opposite of the latter. Who know what would have happened if I stopped them from beheading you? Oh, yes, you would be wearing another skin."

They both knew where Loki would have been—facing whatever "Asgardian justice" pertained to.

The Doctor sipped his cup of tea, trying not to let the bitter taste trifle him, and filed through the Galactic Times newspaper. "Mm-hm. Which is why we're enjoying a quaint little meal on a quaint little planet in celebration of your valiant efforts." He raised his tea cup in vigor. "Hurrah," was the flat finish

Loki stirred the smoothie contents with his spoon, trying not to find the texture fascinating. "This planet and its food are dull."

Loki raised a manicured browed, ever since his departure from the cell, he had vainly kept up his appearance. It also gave him something to do in the infinite amount at their disposal.

" _Truly_?" he drawled. "This is your plan? To dull me to death in hopes that I will seek it?"

"Is it working?"

Loki shook his head, slashing the Doctor's cheeky hopeful grin.

"Not yet. I doubt my false-parents think me dead, given what I am the god of. Thanos is most likely tearing apart the universe to extract rightful vengeance. Why tempt my demise when I still find this life interesting?"

The Doctor grimaced and down the rest of his tea. "How is this interesting?" He winced at the after taste. "They can't even make decent tea!"

Loki rolled his eyes at his companion's antics. "I'm sure you can come up with something."

He confiscated the newspaper. The headline read _: Galik Tech Broke Into—Nothing Stolen._ At least something was going to plan. The stars and planets called to him. It was only a matter of time before he caved.

-(/)-

Loki shouldn't have been surprised that he found the Doctor in one of the TARDIS's libraries. In a corner was Loki's pile of books he had been reading—languages, folklore, and various fields of science. The man lounged innocently on a sofa chair, reading  _Gulliver's Travels_.

"My room consists of only pillows," Loki state blandly.

The Doctor idly flipped another page in his book, not paying the least bit attention to the god.

"Not only that, but they appear to be arranged in a fort of some kind. If this is a lackluster attempt to make me feel at home, Doctor, I—"

The Doctor nodded midrant, and set down his book "Because," he explained in a simple tone as if everything were completely obvious. Which it was if anyone bothered to stop and think. "I figured you would need somewhere to hide. I was trying to be courteous."

"We're inside a time machine, which is perched on a moon orbiting Jupiter in the year 1610. Hide from what, pray tell?"

At that exact moment, the Doctor hopped up and sprang a water gun from betwixt the sofa cushions.

He needed more than that to surprise Loki. A simple incantation and delicate movement of the hand caused the water to solidify into ice. The now heavier gun drooped in the Doctor's hand.

"Not fair!"

"Tsk, tsk. You should know better than to mess with the God of Pranks."

"Well, aren't you a bucket full of delights?"

Loki adopted a feral stance, a wolfish grin on his cheeks. "Tis not I who requires shelter, my Doctor." Any icy green aura formed around Loki's hands. " _Run._ "

The Doctor complied. Laughter trailed the hallways as the Doctor dodged frost missiles.

In the end, Loki won. The Doctor swore the TARDIS helped him cheat.

-(/)-

No air existed in space. No life forms, for they needed breath. Yet Loki strolled effortlessly on the rocky landscape of the moon. Previously, during the fall from Bifrost, he conjured magic to sustain himself as he drifted through nothing. This time, the Doctor extended an air bubble around the TARDIS.

The Doctor followed him out the door, logs balancing in his arms. He arranged them, and then Loki set the wood on fire.

Loki breathed, relaxing in that he needn't exert himself. Although months had passed since his departure from the cell, the drain on his magic remained. A part of his core felt hollow. Not that he admitted anything to the Doctor.

He lazed on a lawn chair, casting his gaze above him. His favorite childhood hobby returned, along with the memories the stars held. Recalling the day's earlier events, he chuckled. It seemed the Doctor truly brought out the child in him. A perplexity struck.

"This is not Jupiter's Callisto," Loki observed. "Judging from the stars and their placing, we are not in the Milky Way."

The Doctor stuck marshmallows on a prong. "Oh, we are. This is in the year 4029, after the Fifth Great Roman War."

"What was the expression you taught me? If I had a chain, you would be yanking it."

"Close, but no cigar."

"Pardon?"

"Never mind that." The Doctor put his marshmallow over the fire. "The war ended a few centuries ago. Rather peacefully, I might add. The absence and new appearance of stars stems from them dying out and being born. Stargazing is looking into the past, what we see has already occurred years ago."

"I am aware of the science. Do not think me to be one of those mortals you tugged about."

Somewhere in the vast abundance of stars, were people who sought them. Who wished them dead. The Doctor hadn't slipped the full story, but Loki knew it was why the Doctor left the mortals behind. Gods were far more durable.

"Right, right. As if the past five months hadn't made that fact abundantly clear. I almost had frostbite because of you."

The Trickster watched the Doctor going through the roasting process, apparently another Midgardian thing, and snorted when the white fluff conspicuously caught on fire. He tuned out the Doctor running amuck, trying to extinguish the growing flame. Instead, he concentrated on the stars.

"Everything comes to an end, you told me that before. How many years until all the lights in our sky vanquish?"

There were stomping and clanking noises followed by, "Ooh, about one hundred trillion years, give or take a few thousand. How is this fire still going? Loki!"

Loki rolled his eyes and let the fire dim out.

"What then? What happens when the stars go out?"

The Doctor settled into his own lawn chair adjacent to Loki's. "You're serious about this, huh?"

"It's my nature; the desire to learn more and use it later on."

The Doctor closed his eyes, the end of the universe being a tricky subject.

"The vast majority of the stars will go out, until a few remain. Life will continue in small ways, but dwindle nonetheless. Some humans and humanoids on spaceships, on dying colonies, still trying to find the perfect home. There are animals and bacteria, able to survive in the cold and the dark, but they too will eventually die off. About a million or so years into that, Time itself will start to deteriorate, marking the end of the universe as we know it."

"Did all Time Lords live with such knowledge, knowing precisely how everything ends?"

Staring in the vortex, still a child, seeing but not comprehending.

"Some go mad," the Doctor said. "We were forbidden from interfering. Kind of, I should say. Until the end. Each creature serves a purpose, and, well, I should start over. You see, Yggdrasil is but a tree in a metaphysical forest. The planets, or realms if you like, though we should really discuss the definition of realm later, where was I?"

Loki halted the Doctor's speech. "You are unused to explaining concepts to those who possess the ability to fully comprehend." His fingers tapped nervously on the armrest. "To make matters simpler, a brief shared conscious will do. What you cannot say in words, I will see and feel." He turned his head to the Doctor, but kept his eyes on the ground. "If you trust me enough for the task, that is."

The Doctor considered this. No ill will was hinted in Loki's voice. "I kicked you out once before," he mused.

Loki explained the process to put them both more at ease. "In short," he finished, "it is far more complicated to ease myself into another person's conscious without the scepter. It is far easier letting someone in." It would also take energy that he didn't have to spare.

"You're letting me inside your head?"

"No," Loki responded flatly. "We'll each be inside a shared space. There, you will project your understanding of the universe."

There was a chuckle of relief. "No bags of cats mixing together?"

"Your reference falls unknown."

Still lounging in lawn chairs, the pair held hands as they drifted to the eighth plane of existence.

-(/)-

If the Doctor could explain the experience to Amy, the metaphor would involve a canvas, a paintbrush, and tons of colors. The accuracy would be off considering the metaphysical eighth plane, the world between worlds, had colors unknown to the human eye.

He painted Yggdrasil along with her surrounding planets and realms. The canvas expanded, more trees and planets dotting it,

The golden gleam of Yggdrasil shined brighter than any other. Magic poured from Yggdrasil, seeping into her fruits, weaving through her domain. A few other trees possessed magic, but little of it.

Then he painted Trenzalore, a million shades of blue and purple, her leaves a shade of fluorescence that boggled Loki's mind. She was the All-Giver, the thread that weaved Time and Space through the universe. The other trees interconnected through her ever expanding roots—the Fields of Trenzalore.

A dark splotch near Trenzalore. Gallifrey. Gone. Time Lords and Keepers. Time locked. Forever burning.

A scorch mark— Skaro. The birthplace of the Kelads, Thals, and the Daleks. Constant hatred screaming.

White and pastel green. Galapozi. Old and ancient and nearly forgotten. Dormant power hidden from its own people.

These are three great worlds of Trenzalore.

Eons pass in blink of an eye. The trees are dying, stars are fading, and planets are shriveled fruit.

The roots and branches of Trenzalore are wilting, breaking. The treads of Time and Space are knotted, tangled, thinning. The universe is dying.

A woman in black appears. She yields fruit plucked from the Time Vortex itself. She sings in words that Loki cannot understand. She whispers a word that he cannot hear. She plants the fruit in the roots of Trenzalore.

The old tree dies. Trenzalore, Yggdrasil, and the forest turn to ash.

The fruit bares a sapling, and the universe is restarted.

If Amy were here, the Doctor would say, "Yeah, it's something like that. But not really."

-(/)-

Loki opened his eyes and gasped for air. His grip slackened, but remained. Before, when he tapped into the Doctor against his will, was nothing compared to this. What he experienced moments again was wondrous.

"And  _that_ is why I'm a certified techno-babbler," the Doctor said smugly.

"I fail to see how you're a certified techno-babbler. That's not even a real position."

The Doctor let go of Loki and reached into his pocket.

"One, that's the same psychic paper that got us in trouble on Galik. Two, it appears someone has left you a message. Unless a bunch of circles and the planetary symbol for Pluto is the sign for a professional techno-babbler."

The Doctor brought it back, and studied the message. Loki, still relaxing, created a simple shade of himself. The shade unabashedly peered over the Doctor's shoulder.

High Gallifreyan mixed with an Earth symbol? About a month ago, Loki requested to be taught the language. Given the infinite amount of time and books available, it seemed like a good idea. Not to mention, Gallifreyan was the only language that the TARDIS hadn't been able to translate. The Doctor decided it best to start with a more common tongue that High Gallifreyan, which led to Loki's current problem of not being able to read what was on the paper.

"This is the part where you translate it," the shade murmured in the Doctor's ear.

The blank expression on the Doctor's face told Loki nothing. The god tilted his head, seeing a tiny tear forming in the corner of the man's eye.

"Tell me what ails you."

"This is her handwriting," he muttered. "The woman in black."

_The coordinates are given thusly. Find me, Doctor._

_**~P** _


	2. The Keeper of Time

Dead Men Walking

The stars and times rushed passed the Keeper as she ran from war. A millennia and countless galaxies behind her, the Keeper crashed on the footsteps of a once loved kingdom. The current Queen promised peace, protection, and friendship. The Keeper served the royalty, keeping home on a planet in the far distance.

She adopted the planet's name, feeling it suited her well.

**Chapter Two: The Keeper of Time**

On the expansive white landscape of the Earth's moon existed a palace. Loki thought for sure there would be more craters and rocky formations, but his core whispered the answer— _magic_. He could that this kingdom was once grand; everything was still in excellent condition. No cracks or rubble. Some colors were dull or muted, and everything had a fine layer of dust. Yet, it seemed to waiting for its ruler to return.

Seven hundred years into the future, in front of a forgotten palace, did not help the queasiness of Loki's gut. The ancient ruins of a forgotten people didn't end well last time.

"The Lunarians," the Doctor provided, "silent and forgotten protectors of Earth. It seems a lot of once majestic civilizations are forgotten lately." He waltzed back into the TARDIS, Loki in tow. "A bit off. C'mon, old girl. Once more."

The TARDIS landed in dusty chambers filled with relics and jewels, tomes and scrolls. The Doctor delighted in such objects of splendor, his face lighting up and hands touching everything like a kid told not to. He spun a sapphire sphere on the tip of his finger. A serene melody washed over the chambers, until the sphere clanged unceremoniously onto the white tiles.

Loki took this opportunity to browse through the scrolls. He placed his palms in the air, searching for ill intentioned magic. Although he sensed no barriers among the scrolls or artifacts, the entire palace felt disconnected.

"There is a barrier encasing the entire the palace—no, the moon."

The Doctor nodded as he plucked a spear and swung it around. "That should explain why the Earth remained unaware of their neighbors." He jaunted with an invisible foe. "I should've gotten a companion versed in the mystical arts  _ages_ ago."

"I doubt it would've ended well."

The Doctor returned the spear to its rightful place after nearly nicking himself. "You sense anything else with your hoodoo voodoo?"

"Mayhap you will remain uninformed. This mysterious woman will go on through her days, unaware of the Doctor and his  _hoodoo voodoo_  companion."

"I'm sorry. It was a joke. The Prankster God  _likes_ jokes, right?"

"Tsk, tsk. I would have indulged my fine services on the simple behalf of our friendship and my goodwill. And yet, now it must come with a price."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "And what, O Great God, may that price be?"

"We haven't played our little game in a while."

"Fine, fine. Go on."

"Who is this woman in black?"

"I could've told you that without these shenanigans. Shenanigans, ooh, I love that word. The woman in black is a Time Keeper, another race from Gallifrey."

"Interesting, but I won't count it since you won't. Is this Time Keeper the last of her kind as are you?"

The Doctor swallowed a heavy stone in his throat. "Yes. We ran away together in the war. She's also close to dying, so if you'd  _kindly put to use your talents_ , I'd appreciate it very much."

A brief moment of rage and anger flickered across the Doctor, quickly followed by sorrow. Loki closed his eyes, envisioning the energy flow of the chambers. He stilled. In one direction, mystical energy overflowed—the source of the moon's barrier. He pointed, and opened his eyes.

"This way."

At the very end of the long room, a tapestry hung from the top and rolled to the bottom.

A woman of pure white cradled the Earth. Stark blackness incased the two, but woman remained calm and serene.

"She never got along with the Time Lords. Called us a bunch of old twats who never did anything." The Doctor laughed. "I always admired her spirit, but never had a chance to meet her. It's a shame." He lifted up the tapestry and carried on into a secret passage way. "Anyhoo, in we go."

One would think that a secret passage way of a kingdom atop a moon would prove interesting. Loki decided it was just a boring as it was on Asgard. Dull grey coated with dull dust with dull turns. Dreadfully boring and tediously long. Loki decided to lighten the atmosphere with a little conversation. Well, lighten was perhaps the wrong word.

"How do you know she's close to dying?"

"There's little else she would contact me for."

"If she dies—"

" _Loki_ ," the Doctor warned.

"If she dies, then let's assume no one else can restart the universe. Time will come to an end. The rest of the universe will be none the wiser other than our unfortunate selves. Sounds enticing." He paused in his jovial steps. "Even the gods who Yggdrasil constantly rebirths in an endless cycle would perish."

"Everything must come to an end. Even gods, even time itself.

"If I… if I die in this life, that is the end of me?"

"All the more reason to start walking again."

The passage continued in silence until they reached an ornate silver door.

"The Time-Door, leading to another dimension crafted by Time Keepers," explained the Doctor.

"You mean realm," said Loki. "From the magic, I can tell this clearly leads to another realm."

"Huh. So they're synonyms or close enough. Go figure." Before Loki could argue the wrongness of that statement, the Doctor opened the door. "Geronimo!"

-(/)-

Crossing into another realm wasn't always fun. Yet here they were, making a little visit with the last person who could restart time. The room was sparse; dim and lit by a few scattered candles. Judging by the spools of melted wax, the candles were once tall, majestic things. Like the palace, a fine layer of dust coated the entire place.

Loki stood to the side, observing the woman in black.

The Doctor knelt before a meager throne, her tanned hand in his. Loki could hear him whispering apologies. Despite it being in a language he could not comprehend, he knew that tone, that pleading voice almost reminiscent of a child. Loki shifted attention back to the woman, or Time Keeper as it happened.

Deep shades of grey could not disguise what were once long waterfalls of green hair. Tediously long, Loki decided. He would never let his hair grow to that length.

She wore a long black gown, fluorescent skulls shimmering in the dim light of her candles. Hard red eyes stared pass the Doctor and locked onto Loki. Her grip on her staff tightened, and Loki knew that the age worn tracings of her skin did not indicate weakness in spirit and perhaps power.

"You are Loki of Asgard," she observed. "The God of Mischief and Lies accompanies another. Quaint."

The Doctor's indigent speech was cut off by Loki.

"Since we're all aware of whom I am, I could ask the same of you."

"My name is of no importance, though I have known as Senshi Pluto for the pass eon or so. I have kept this kingdom safe in awaiting the reincarnation my Queen. It appears that I am not only the last Time Keeper, but her last functioning servant as well."

"There's a lot of 'last of' or 'forgotten' going around these days."

She let a gravelly chuckle. "It appears so. It is the duty of the Time Keeper to restore Time once it ends. Yet I am near death and without transport to Trenzalore. Even if I leave, the barrier around the moon will fall. A Time Lord provides should provide sufficient physiology and be able perform the act. I am sure that the Doctor will be able to explain it properly later. Now, leave us, the Doctor and I must go over the ritual."

Loki went back through the Time-Door in a huff. He could attend to mystical items just lying around without anybody stopping him. He bid the Doctor farewell. He happily pivoted his heels and exited the realm. If he wasn't mistaken, there was a beautifully encrusted glaive.

The Doctor hid a smile behind a sleeve. "Letting him loose, are we? I've been so well at keeping an eye on him."

"When I left the message, the TARDIS sung to me. If he is truly the Loki who struck the Earth in 2012, I do not fear him. He is still young, still impressionable—not yet as dangerous."

"I thought I almost lost him. But he's earnest in his own way— when not setting things on fire. He's helping erase me from all the databases."

"The greatest trick the devil ever pulled," the Keeper mused. "I must wonder the intentions behind his actions. I doubt he does it for good, and more for your sake."

The Doctor shook his head wearily. "I know, I know. I want to show him the good of humanity. He believes the humans have slighted him. That they're greedy, warmongering creatures worth less than dirt."

"Show him the quality. Promise me. I sensed the magic in him, the potential to use it for good."

Laughter echoed in the room. "Loki? A  _force for_   _good_? I'm lucky he hasn't struck back at Asgard. Nevertheless, who am I to deny a dying woman a promise? It's not like I'm going to do anything overly dramatic like restart the universe. Have I mentioned I already done that before? More like a miniboost, time wasn't unraveling or anything. I like to oversell it."

The Doctor and the Keeper spoke of many things.

They laughed, remembering their childhood—before the prejudices between keepers and lords.

They shared stories, each having many of their adventures. She told tales of the Moon Princess, of the honor serving a truly benign being. He recounted his companions, of the experiences.

They both endured hardships. More than the last of their kind. More than lost loved ones. Something accompanied over long, countless years.

They cried. She warned him of the innocent girl who became a monster. He knew, the Nightmare Child.

They did not speak of Gallifrey.

A Time Keeper had an extremely long life span, reaching further than a Time Lords. Unlike the Time Lords, they did not possess the ability to regenerate. Once they died, it was final. While serving the Moon Kingdom, Pluto halted time without abiding by the rules. Her life span paid for it.

She was the last of the keepers, the only beings who could restore Time. However, they could grant temporary power if need be—at the cost of their life. She knew death awaited her withering frame; she had but hours left and no quarrel.

She spoke of the ritual he must perform, the movements required.

The Keeper plucked fruit from her rod—the Garnet Orb. She levitated the Garnet Orb between her palms. It glowed a fierce red as she chanted in language he could not understand—and he knew almost all of them.

It ended, and she bequeathed the Garnet Rod to its new owner.

The Doctor grasped the staff, eying the Orb carefully.

"Once you touch the orb, your Time Lord DNA will be altered to Time Keeper DNA. No more regenerations. No more second chances. There is no coming back from this. I am unable to tell you what you must speak, but you have a way of figuring things out. The ritual is dangerous for someone without true Keeper blood. It is wise to see a partner for this ritual. One with a strong magical core."

"And lead them to their death? We both know the outcome of this dance. This is why you want to convert Loki to good, isn't it? Eliminate him after using him." He backed away from the throne.

"He would do it for you. Do you know what he becomes? No, no, you can't. Not after the treaty of the Jotunheim and Asgard war. The Prankster God. The Trickster God. The God of Mischief and Lies and Deceit. He will become the God of Evil."

"Quiet! You shouldn't have told me! It didn't have to end like that, but now it's set!"

Her lips curved. "Oh Doctor, it still doesn't. He can still help you."

"It's been a pleasure.  _Good-bye_."

He slipped through the doorway, ignoring the Keeper's final words.

-(/)-

Loki absolutely did not pocket any of the artifacts. Nor did he make several trips to TARDIS to deposit several scrolls or shiny weapons. If anyone asked, mainly the Doctor, he politely paid tribute to the urns in the corridor.

He casually slipped his hands in his pockets and admired the artwork when the Doctor strode in from the passageway. The Garnet Rod in hand, Loki admired the Doctor's kingly appearance.

"What comes of us now? Are we off to gallantly save the universe? If so, you recruited the wrong prince."

The Doctor scoffed as if it were such a silly notion.

"I think a trillion years can wait awhile. We have things to do, databases to clear, planets to explore, and countless shenanigans to get into. See, I love that word. Come along now, Loki."

Once inside the TARDIS, the Doctor went to the Zero Room. He remarked how it too had change, and Loki didn't bother to ask. The Doctor placed the Rod on a pedestal, as if it was always meant to be there.

Loki ran a finger along the staff, breathing in its powers. He felt the indents of the unreadable script. How can it feel familiar yet foreign? "This writing is not Gallifreyan."

"I can't read it. The TARDIS can't translate it, yet it holds the key words to restarting the universe." He cracked his knuckles and popped his neck. "The greatest mystery in the universe can destroy it. What can I say? Gallifreyans do it in style. A few more databases and then we hit the best libraries in the universe."

A sensation struck Loki suddenly. He closed his eyes and focused.

"Is something wrong?"

"The Keeper has passed. Her life energy is encircling the moon, protecting it."

The Doctor pivoted on his heels and began to exit the room. Loki reached out, grabbing him by the shoulder. There was no point in asking if the Doctor was okay, Loki could plainly read the answer.

"The woman meant something to you. I will aid you in the quest however I can."

The Doctor left without speaking, leaving a peculiar twist in Loki's chest. Loki had understood that such words were to be comforting between friends. Had he misspoke?


	3. A Deal Made

Dead Men Walking

Acceptance is given. Forgiveness is earned. Loki knows he's in possession of one, but not the other.

In the end, he was a greedy creature.

Perhaps one day, forgiveness would extend pass the Doctor. Pass his parents.

One day, he could reconnect with his children.

**Chapter Three: A Deal Made**

Six days later and two more databases wiped, the dynamic duo settled out on a picnic in a park. Trees dotted the scenery, birds chirping in the air. Humanoid felines jogged along the sidewalks, played frisbee, and leapt after birds. Loki decided that he liked this planet.

The question came while the Doctor was shoveling cake in his mouth. The Doctor swallowed the chocolate lump in his throat. "Repeat that?"

Loki couldn't blame him. It was more of a demand than question.

"You oft rattle endlessly about the goodness of humanity. I usually tune you out and think of would-be conquests. I present a proposition. I give you one opportunity to present to me why you adore humanity. If it is suitable, I will not complain when we visit human infested worlds. If not—no more."

Two minutes passed while the Doctor thought it over.

It had to be drastic. The Doctor knew that Loki understood and mastered subtlety, but the god missed the little things whether it be his own twisted violation or the truths be hidden. Extremes had to be made and perfected. Loki prided himself as a master manipulator, causing the Doctor to often question these past months. Loki also prided himself as above being manipulated, which the Doctor would use to his advantage.

"Two. Give me two opportunities and I won't 'prattle on' anymore either."

A deal was struck.

-(/)-

The day came when the big bad wolf roamed the woods of the past.

Hellish heat assaulted Loki's skin, and he cursed his Jotun heritage. The trees' shade did nothing to shield them from burning ball of light and humid air. "What horrid year did we mistakenly land in?"

"Welcome to 1836 in land of Texas. Pre-Texas, actually. Not quite the land of big hats yet, though I hear there's a coonskin cap with my name on it." He licked his finger and stuck it in the air. "We're a bit of the ways off, but we're need of good hike after all that cake."

The moment they stumbled upon a stream, Loki's abandoned the Doctor's casual stroll to find humanity. He knelt down and splashed his face. Cool relief was followed by confusion.

"There is a human girl staring at me."

"That's my reflection, silly."

Loki spun around, and only resisted the urge to strangle the giggling brat due to the Doctor. She set a hand crafted basket on the grass and wiped smudged hands on her patchwork, red dress. She held out her hand. "My apologies for, uh, startlin' ya, sir. Name's Suzy." He eyed her hand disdainfully, so she settled for a curtsy.

When Loki didn't respond, the Doctor cleared his throat and caught their focus.

"Hello little Suzy. I'm the Doctor, traveler extraordinaire and fancier of really nifty hats." He finished with a gentleman's bow and ignored Loki's scoff.

"A real live Doctor? Mr. Bowie is gonna be so happy!" She grabbed the Doctor's hand and her basket after a quick curtsy. "Ya gotta come to the wit' me."

They trudged through the endless amount of trees, the sun beating down on their backs. The child chatted aimlessly with the Doctor. She told him about her Pa and their journey through the frontier. It sounded quite perilous for mortals, and Loki's children popped into mind.

Children were differently not his weak spot.

Not at all.

-(/)-

The Alamo was once a missionary, now fortified against the oncoming Mexican army. A group of men met the travelers at the entrance. A young boy slid through imposing legs and grabbed Suzy. He scolded her and eyed the newcomers with distrust.

"Jus' who are you?"

A charming smile from the Doctor disarmed everyone. "Hello! Lovely thing you have going on here. The canon is a nice touch. This is Loki, and I'm the Doctor."

The largest man broke from the scowling pack and offered a handshake. "Name's John. This here is Theo and Davie. The tyke there is Joseph, Suzy's brother. Bowie's gonna be awfully pleased that we got a new doc."

"No, no. I'm  _the_ Doctor. Cheesemaking and—"

"Any doc is as good as none. The others couldn't do nothin', but maybe you can."

The Doctor was whisked off with Loki toting behind, grinning wickedly. An oncoming army? Helpless mortals? Was it Yule season already in this godsforsaken country? The Doctor really wanted to stay and chat with a fellow adorning a coonskin cap, but the twists and turns led him a small room.

The desk of the room displayed maps, an outline of the Alamo, and several written letters. A worn man hunched over the desk, hastily replying to a letter. Dark circles clouded beneath his eyes. The man hadn't received a full night's rest in days. When the visitors arrived, they waited for the coughing fit to cease. He stood and gave a curt salute to the group.

"Colonel Jim Bowie. I would rather give you a handshake, but the boys can't reckon what I've had the pleasure to contract."

The man escorting introduced them."This Loki and the other calls himself the Doctor."

At that, Bowie perked up. "You're dismissed Lieutenant Darst."

Darst leaves, and Loki yawns.

"Well, Mr. Colonel sir, I'm not exactly a medical doctor, but I'll give it a shot."

The two go over the symptoms: chills, coughing, mucus around the tongue, chest pains. Loki grew bored of the conversation. He didn't travel with the Doctor to fret over sick humans. The sorcerer glances over at the mortal in command.

"Typhoid pneumonia, most likely. Given this time's medicine, technology, and reach from society, he will be dead soon enough."

He would probably be on the receiving end of a lecture later of needing to improve his people's skills. Ha! He could talk a merchant into purchasing a fire breathing goat—he has. But these insects didn't qualify as  _people_. And much higher offense, they were  _boring_  him.

Loki left before the Doctor could say anything.

Perhaps Bowie already knew his fate. Not the cause, but the fact his death was inevitable. He was soldier after all, and he vowed to take men with him. With that knowledge sealed, he changed the subject entirely.

"What brings you here? Don't seem like the warring type, and we already sent those out."

The Doctor ambled about the room as he spoke. He ran a finger over a picture of Bowie's family on the bedside drawer, next to a pistol.

"Me and my companion are merely travelers. Suzy stumbled upon us and brought us to this lovely missionary."

"Hasn't been a missionary in awhile," he chuckled. "Suzy's a nice girl, can't get her to leave though. She's too attached to her brother. Every time we tried sending her away, she'd sneak off and end up back here. This ain't a place for kids." He sighed, deep in thought. "You're welcomed to stay the night. Under a condition."

"Does it involve a blood oath? Haven't done one of those in awhile."

Bowie shook his head and wondered which traveler was more peculiar.

"Before you leave, try and take the girl with you. She has family in Galveston, I believe. Losoya'd know."

"What of her parents? She nearly talked my ear off about her Pa."

"Died of fever on the way here. Losoya's family picked her and brother up."

The TARDIS knew what she was doing. She was sentient, living, and knew Loki as long as the Doctor did. He asked her for his help, for the perfect destination. It pained the Doctor to know that Suzy's parents died, but he could spark the kindling, the trip would be worth it.

-(/)-

As the Doctor consulted with a man on his literal death bed, Loki wandered off. Not wanting to deal with petty mortals, he shifted invisible.

The soldiers of the fort were incredibly dull to observe. Even the colors were dull. Bored by it all, Loki sought out the smell wafting through the dry air. Two individuals were in the kitchen together. A female worked over a large pot of stew while a male sliced an avian creature. Although Loki knew the dark skinned pair spoke a language even foreign to most in the fort, Loki understood the words. The power of the TARDIS impressed him still.

Loki nicked a roll of bread and left.

He flickered into sight just as he turned the corner, running into a boy. Judging from the kid's physical features and earlier actions, Loki judged him to be Suzy's kin. The boy met Loki's gaze with defiance and mistrust. He must have a been twelve of Midgard's years, significantly younger than the other male residents.

He reminded Loki of the Warriors Three.

The kid all but spat at Loki.

"Mr. Bowie may be needing a doc, but I ain't trusting strange folk from the woods. Nothin' good comes from there."

"Too many tales of monsters?" He gripped the boy's chin and sent fear spiraling down his spine. "Mayhap we are here to save unworthy hides from being skinned?"

At the last word, the boy clenched his fists and bit his tongue. Loki tilted his head.

"Ooh," he breathed. "I struck a nerve." He released the kid and stepped back. "Run along afore I do it myself."

Without waiting for a response, Loki flickered out of sight.

Loki found a tree in the court yard with proper shade. Relaxing beneath it, he turned his thoughts towards the Doctor's recent actions. He chewed the rest of his bread. He tried not to think about how his thoughts always found their way back to the Doctor. With the sun finally lowering itself, Loki questioned why the Doctor brought him here.

The blue sky, despite the horrible heat, was quite lovely. As were the network of critters and animals roaming amongst the foliage of the countryside. All in all, it would be an exquisite sight to behold.

There was practice gunfire in the distance, reminding Loki how Midgardians could tamper their stench in such beauty. From the bits of conversation his ears picked up, the Doctor dragged him into a middle of a war.

He created a shade of himself and transformed it into a crow. Letting out a craw, the crow flew off high in great speed. Five minutes passed as the bird flew at tremendous velocity. It was a distinct, peculiar feeling to have the wind flowing against his feathers and be sitting in the shade at the same time. Loki finished the rest of his bread.

Loki called off his shade, the crow vanishing into nothing.

The meager forces of the fort were doomed.

_I do not understand, Doctor._

For surely, the Doctor must know.

Pitter patter of small feet grabbed Loki's attention, and he cursed himself for the momentary lack of alertness. The girl child from before stood in front of him, patchwork dress curling in the wind. She wore the innocent smile trademarked by only children.

"It's gonna be dark soon. Y'all are gonna be bunkin' with me and Joseph."

Loki's mind flashed back to the inside of the fort and its dirty floors. He much preferred the comfort of the TARDIS despite sleeping in harsher conditions when questing with Thor. He could simply teleport himself back there.

"The Doctor and I require no lodging."

"The night ain't kind to travelers. All manners of creatures lurk in these parts. Indians, coyotes, wolves…"

"Yes, your literature and tales are littered with big bad wolves."

"That's 'cause wolves are scary."

Loki reflected on his own wolf child, imprisoned on an island. He cursed himself for not doing his best to free his own child; caught up in his own damnable youth.

"Not all wolves, my dear."

"Prove it."

Before now, Loki hadn't decided if he liked the child. Still an innocent and thoroughly naïve, her defiance stared down at his sitting form. Of all the mortals stinking up the place, Loki decided that mayhap this was the best apple of the bunch.

_Still young; moldable; corruptible._

There was something he couldn't place his finger on.

He put on his most charming, princely smile and patted the grass in front of him. "Sit, child. Let me spin you a proper tale worthy of the ears of your children's children."

Suzy sat on the grass and scooted closer so she rested in the shade.

"Long, long ago a wolf was born from the bedding between two monsters."

"You mean 'once upon a time.' All the best stories start with 'once upon a time.'"

"This tale holds truth, child, unlike the rubbish oft fed to you."

"I like yer accent."

"My thanks. Now cease talking and allow me to continue."

He cleared his voice.

"The two monsters bore three beautiful children: a half-living girl, a serpent, and a wolf. Fenrir the wolf had the most gorgeous fur in all the nine worlds. Almost every race, even the Vanir, who are said to have all the riches, wished to have the luscious hide of Fenrir to themselves. The foolish mother, worried for her son's safety, ignored and did not consult with the wise father. Instead, she sought wisdom from a witch."

The voice of the Doctor called out, interrupting Loki before the tale become truly interesting.

"Excellent news! They're letting stay the night! Isn't that marvelous? Think of all the shena—"

Loki sighed and stood. He dusted off his trousers before bowing to Suzy. "It seems we must continue the tale another time, m'lady." He walked briskly over to the Doctor and grabbed him by his precious bow-tie.

"Do you think they're any aliens are robots lurking about? There's  _always_ aliens or robots lurking about."

"Yes,  _us_! We will not be staying the night in this dust hole. I know not the purpose of you dragging me to this dust haven, but I have yet to see any reason to be fond over these dull creatures. In fact, we are in the middle of a petty, mortal dispute."

The Doctor uncurled Loki's grip on his bow-tie. It had been a practiced action he had become accustomed to. As long as Loki no longer aimed for the neck, the Doctor didn't mind. Finding the ground beneath his feet once more, he spoke. "Stay awhile, make some friends. Trust me, I'm the Doctor."

_And the Doctor lies, I know that much._

Over the months, they have tried honesty as a policy. Yet they both knew, the other was a liar. Trickery ran so deep in their blood, would they ever stop?

"I saw the enemy closing in. These mortals are stupid. I should see more preparing to flee, the sensible thing, to fight another day for they cannot win this battle. Midgardians want nothing more to live, do they not?"

Loki was determined to find the angle the Doctor was trying to work. None of it made sense. He felt no connection or sympathy. These people were clearly idiots, and Loki did not value idiots.

"These are merely the ancestors of the mortals you tried to take over. Not quite the type to run away, huh? But like you said, a petty human squabble, nothing to worry about. Now come along, they're serving supper."

-(/)-

During supper, Joseph made a point to drag his sister away from Loki. Instead, the god found himself conversing with a soldier's who father was a historian. Although the life of a soldier called to the man, he found that he soaked up much of the knowledge his father left behind.

Loki pondered if Odin left any marking on Loki that didn't cut into him. He knew of battle, of how to hold a blade, of the fine tunings of war that Thor could never properly grasp. He preferred his time spent with Frigga. He missed the nights when she recounted tales that bards would be envious of. He yearned for the smoothing circles she would rub on his backside after a grueling day of sparring.

Yes, Loki wanted his mother back. Not that he would ever admit it.

And those thoughts turned to his own neglected children. Fenrir, trapped on an island. Jörmungandr swam somewhere in Midgard's oceans. And sweet Hela… Loki tried not to think about her.

Perhaps bad parenting ran in the family.

As usual, Loki's thoughts circled back to the Doctor. What was the Time Lord's father like? How did  _that_ relationship turn out?

His ears tune in to a conversation the Doctor is having with man named Losoya.

Losoya in a drunken slur informed the Doctor of what Joseph confessed to him. Suzy's mother had lived after she gave birth. In fact, she lived for another two years. Yet the frontier was a dangerous place, and the woman was killed during an Indian raid.

Loki drank the rest of the pathetic ale.

Did normal, conventional families even exist?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silly, Loki. Conventional families don't exist. Or the author just doesn't know how to write them.


	4. Big Bad Wolf

Dead Men Walking

The Doctor wants nothing more than to forgive, yet he knows full well the havoc Loki created.

**Chapter Four: Big Bad Wolf**

The Doctor watched with a bemused grin as the almighty and feared Loki braided the girl's hair. Joseph stared at the pair oddly from atop of the cots. Kids seemed to be the sorcerer's weakness, a fact that the Doctor didn't mind exploiting when the occasion arisen. The Time Lord settled in the corner, content for now in not speaking.

Was it worth it? The Doctor was fully aware of what he was doing. He could see it now: Loki becoming attached the child. He would sacrifice the god's mental well being to promote the goodness of humans.

_He literally asked to be proved their worth. Struck a deal with the devil himself._

The Doctor knew he wasn't a good man. Why did people never see that?

He had been observing Loki for a long time now. In little, barely there moments, the Doctor knew Loki possessed a soft spot for children. He kept the knowledge hidden. The god could take harder blows than his former companions. He had faith in Loki, something not often given to the God of Mischief.

If he played his cards right, the children would survive. The god would be pleased. A happy ending for all.

The Joseph boy kept glaring at the god, his fists continually clenching and unclenching. Loki hummed an ancient tune, ignoring the boy. At least he wasn't strangling anyone or trying to lay waste to humankind. The Doctor wouldn't allow such things.

"Hey," piped the Doctor in his cheerful, manic voice, "who wants to hear a dashing tale of good triumphing over evil? Of floating heads and top of the notch cowboy hats? Once upon a time, a—"

"No, no, no," chanted the little girl in Loki's lap. "Once upon a time ain't no good."

"Correct, little one." He patted her head like a little pet. "Shall we finish our tale from earlier?"

"Yes, please!"

There was nothing tender about the way Loki absently brushed her hair. Not at all, Loki would deny. He gave a pointed look at the observing the Doctor, daring him to question otherwise. The Doctor made a 'zipping his lips' motion and spoke nothing of how fatherly or brotherly Loki seemed.

"Where did we leave off?"

"The momma was bein' an idiot!"

"Yes, yes." He cleared his voice and his fingers continued to braid.

"The mother sought help from the hilltop witch of Ringsfjord, said to be knowledgeable in the arts of remaining hidden. Many moons passed as she braved the wilderness and foul beasts who inhabit the domain. After much pleading and coercing and bribery, the witch-woman brewed a potion and instructed the mother to bathe her child in it. The potion should cause the wolf to become invisible to all except kinfolk.

Now, the mother fretted for days for she wanted the worlds to know that such horrible creatures could give birth to such beauty. Yet seeing her son constantly tormented swayed her to carry through with the deed."

Loki finished the braid, and the child skipped over to see on the cot next to her brother so she can face Loki fully. The Doctor brought his knees to his chest, eager to hear the rest.

"The father did not agree with the scheme for witches from the Ringsfjord were to never be trusted. Fenrir pleaded with the father after the mother's voice grew hoarse. Seeing the suffering and longing for normalcy, the father agreed to assist. In Gopul River, the parents bathed their child with the witch's brew.

To test the brew's working, the father took Fenrir to the marketplace. The mother held her breath, waiting to see if the witch's potion held true. They walked, passing the local goods and booths. And then, a young silversmith brought his hand down to stroke Fenrir as he always did when the peculiar family stopped by. In a sudden burst of anger, Fenrir unleashed a ferocious growl. His sharp fangs clamped down on the silversmith's hand and  _ripped it off_!"

Suzy immediately crushed herself in Joseph's chest. "Stop it! Stop talking!"

Loki gave her a befuddled look. "I do not understand, child. The tale is incomplete."

"But it's  _scary_."

"It is not scary, you twit. Scary is when a herd of bilgesnipe chase you down a cliff side and your brother decides it's a good idea to keep fighting them."

"Well, does this story at least have a happy ending?"

Loki hesitated.

Joseph glared up at the god before petting his sister comfortably. "Shhh. I ain't gonna let the wolf hurt you."

The Doctor nearly leapt from his corner and unzipped his lips. "Perhaps it is time for the children to sleep. Now say good night to Loki. We have to go talk about a few things with the adults now."

After leaving for the nighttime outdoors, the pair took their time to stargaze—a habit they now shared. They were becoming in synch in many ways that it startled Loki. Companionship was odd, but enjoyable nonetheless.

"We do not truly have to converse with the idiots, do we?"

Loki kept looking around, and found themselves alone.

"No, no. Thought it was best to leave before the girl heard something tragic. This story wouldn't happen to be true?"

"Storytelling is a liar's profession, Doctor. Don't read too much into it."

"So how does it end?"

Loki ignored the question. He opted to magic himself atop the fort walls. He let his legs dangle in the air, and the breeze run through his ebony locks. He sat in contemplative silence as the Doctor scaled the wall to join him.

"Ending the opposing army would be a simple task for a god and a Time Lord," Loki said finally. "You've destroyed cosmic horrors, killed some of the most advanced predators, and avoided Death's gaze for centuries. A few petty humans would be child's play."

The Doctor finally pulled himself up next to his friend. He gulped air in, regaining his breath. "You are correct," he replied. If he could take out an empire of daleks in space with only his TARDIS, an un-advanced human army would serve no obstacle. "This is an important moment in their history. Changing it would be devastating."

"You feel for these ugly creatures. I see it in your eyes. Even now, as they're about to bring upon their own destruction, you adore them. You want to save them."

The Doctor scooted closer, arms touching. "Always."

"I only see foolhardiness— a quality suitable for my brother. You have failed in your task. We should depart."

The Doctor takes Loki's hand, and holds it. Minutes pass as they merely stare at the moon. "Wolves aren't always big and bad. Tell me how does the story end?"

A moth tittered to and fro along the blades of grass. Loki concentrated on the tiny creature. His mind filled him with all the possibilities to kill it. He hated himself for such thoughts. For what's he warped into over the centuries, twisted even more under Thanos.

He cannot produce a reason for saying what came next. He had never shared anything too personal with the Doctor of the times after he left him as a child.

"I used to think that not everyone was born a monster. My thinking changed once I learned of my heritage. And I thought what of my children? Are they too monsters?" His voice cracks. "But they are beautiful, Doctor. Roses born from a sea of thorns. If only others could see it. That they won't  _born_ monsters. People  _twisted_  them. People  _hurt_  them. And, and… they are still not monsters. They never can be." He gripped the Doctor's hand tightly. "I am a no better parent than Odin," he confessed into his friend's shoulder.

_And this girl is so pure and untainted despite her surroundings._

The story remained unfinished. The Doctor didn't press the subject. He held onto to the god, and let the cricket's music fill the night air. He knew the feeling of failing as a parent.

The ending never spoke of:

_The wolf goes on a terrible rampage for they have been deceived by the witch. The King of the land wishes to kill the monstrosity. The father pleads with the King to let his son live. The King obliges. However, the wolf is forever chained to an island. To punish the foolish parents, the king banishes the daughter to the realm of the dead and forgotten, and he casts the serpent to oceans._

_Left childless, the mother leaves the father._

But Loki is liar and storytelling is a liar's profession. Who's to say that the account holds true?

-(/)-

In the end, Loki slept in a cot next to the children. The long night took its toll on the god, and everyone decided it best to shuffle quietly out of the room in come morning. Suzy wasn't everybody and lacked common sense. She waited until breakfast was over to wake up the grumpy god.

He yawned and noticed the girl presenting a luscious apple. "An apple a day keeps the Doctor away," he mumbled. He sat up in the cot and rubbed his messy mane. He held the red fruit in his slender fingers.

 _The fruit that yields knowledge keeps the Doctor away,_ he mused.  _Truth counters lies, and thus the same can be spoken of me. I am dangerous, after all._

"Your brother may be correct." He leaned over, sporting a serpentine smile. "What if I'm a big bad wolf?"

She giggled. "Joseph also says I'm too scrawny, so there ain't much to be gained by eatin' me." She took another apple from her basket. She crunched the fruit and wiped the juice from her lips. "I, uh, happened to overhear the returnin' scouts. The Mexican army'll be here in less than a day. Ya and the Doc might wanna get out of here before the fighting starts."

He bit into his own apple. "You think us cowards?"

"The Doc says yer just wanderers. This ain't a place ya want stay around in."

Loki let out a chuckle, and he rubbed the juice from his mouth with his sleeve. "Says the child. You will not run?"

The girl shrugged. "I can't leave Joseph. He plans on hiding me with the cook. But I ain't afraid. We got the best men in the whole country. Soon, Sam Houston will be here, so there's nothing to be scared of."

The chuckle deepened. It blew out into a full out cackle.

"Child, there is always something to fear."

-(/)-

Travis brought the Doctor aside after addressing his own men.

"It's time to make good on your promise, Doctor. Take the children and leave. My scout informs Santa Anna's men will be here within nightfall. Make haste."

The Doctor nodded, spoke nothing, and spun around to leave. Judging from the sun, it was already noon. He followed the sounds of jeers and laughter. To his surprise, Loki was playing checkers. Granted, it was from an impromptu checker set as how chess would take more time. But still.

Loki was engaging in human activities. Willing. Score one for Alamo trip.

He may not have to resort to his second plan and risks the Ponds' lives.

At closer inspection, the Doctor noticed Suzy sitting in Loki's lap while he instructed her on the next move.

"If you move there, you must think of the possible moves your opponents and then your corresponding moves. What can you do?"

The Doctor waited until the game concluded with Suzy's victory to pull Loki aside. "We leave before tonight."

"We're taking the girl with us, yes?"

"The  _children_. Suzy and Joseph."

"The boy will not come. He is too stubborn and thinks himself a hero."

"Well, children do love a good spaceship. We can spin a good tale, wave some candy, and it'll be all hunky dory." He clapped his hands and grinned. "Ooh, maybe, spend Christmas somewhere! Kids  _love_ Christmas."

"Fine. We proposition the girl first. I get the impression that the boy does not take kindly to me."

Yes, Loki could rescue the girl. It gave him hope for his own children.

-(/)-

They were standing by the stream once more, Suzy brought with the illusion of fruit picking. The Doctor was rambling about a giant fish he once caught. For a brief, beautiful moment, Loki is reminded of one his first quests with Thor. Everything went to Hel, but they found a river and soaked their aching feet.

He tries to sound calm. A human child should not affect him as she does. It's stupid, really. Unreasonable.

_She has Hela's smile._

_Oh. That's why._

It unnerved him. It had been decades since he angst over his children. He had pushed it back to his closet of overbearing skeletons. Yet this child brought it out by merely existing in the space in front of him. He must have been enchanted.

He explained in simple, unchildish terms.

"The Alamo will fall with the oncoming army. Everyone will perish."

The Doctor stepped in, his voice bright and chipper.

"But I have a marvelous ship that sails the very stars. We offer safe voyage to whatever place and time you wish!"

The sounds of nature quieted: the trickling stream, the birds chirping, and rustling wind. A blue butterfly perched itself on a nearby branch.

Suzy shook her head. "My place is with them, Doctor. People think I'm stupid, but I ain't. 'Fore Pa died, he told me to be brave. Even wit' all the bad stuff coming, I gotta stay by Joseph. We're all we got."

Repressing unknown emotions failed. Loki picked the girl up by her shoulders, and did his best not to tightly squeeze.

"You foolish girl, the Doctor offers you a chance to escape and you deny it? Playing hero when you know death is forthcoming, are you dense? One girl will not affect the battlefield." Seeing her tear up, Loki set Suzy back down. He patted her awkwardly on the head. "My apologies. Please, do not leave me."

She curtsied to the Doctor and hugged Loki.

_Please. Another child lost._

"What can I say? I'm only human."

She treaded along the grass, further and further away from Loki. He froze in disbelief. This couldn't be happening.

The butterfly fluttered away.

Loki felt a hand on his shaking shoulders.

"Why must you adore such a stupid race?"

Pain wasn't abundant upon Loki's features, but the Doctor knew the little signs. Nearly the entirety of Loki's body did not move. His jaw remained tight. His green eyes locked onto to Suzy's retreating form until she blurred into the background—gone.

This was the moment, the Doctor knew—the moment that decided everything.

"You wish to save her, don't you?"

"No…"

"Liar," whispered the Doctor.

-(/)-

Joseph huddled in the corner of kitchen, trying to let the warmth calm his nerves. He needed to get up. He needed to find his sister. She was all he had left in the world. He needed to fight for her; to make sure the revolution succeeded.

A shadowed hover over and Joseph glared at the man he hated. The man from the woods. Nothing good ever comes from the woods.

"Leave."

"I need to locate your sister."

Joseph spat at the towering man.

"If you want her to live and be happy, I need to find her." There were too many swarming bodies for Loki to sense out her tiny presence. "I just might let you tag along."

"Go get that doc of yers. He's the only one here that can tolerate yer ass." Joseph took pleasure in Loki's rising anger. "S'wrong? He abandon you too?"

_"This is something you have to do, and I have faith in you."_

The Doctor should have known better.

"Listen, worthless insect, I will not hesitate on my offer of skinning your hide." He flicked out an unsheathed dagger. It danced on his fingertips. "Is that what happened to your mother? Will you put up more of a fight, or do you want to do this the easy way?"

By now, Joseph bounded up on his feet. The memories of his mother being scalped fresh on his mind, he lunged at the god. The blade went for the boy's arm, not truly wanting to cause serious damage. But before it could collide with flesh, a voice from the doorway called out.

"Mister Loki, stop it!"

The dueling pair separated themselves, and Loki once again chided himself for being so affected by children. Suzy clutched the red fabric of her dress, unsure of what to do.

"Please, just stop."

Tense silence filled the room. Everybody just stared at each other until Suzy ran sobbing into her brother's arms. Loki stood there awkwardly at the scene of two siblings comforting each other. He was centuries old, and children still confused him. He cursed himself for handling the situation poorly.

He then knocked them out. The situation was already so messed up that he didn't know what to do. He scooped up the children, and didn't look at their sleeping forms.

When he teleported back outside the TARDIS, Loki ignored the gasp as he walked in. He carefully set the children down next to the railing.

"This is what your faith in me achieves."

He leaned over the railing as the Doctor punched in and twirled the coordinates for the next destination. He pressed his forehead against the cool metal and closed his eyes. He let his stomach settle before standing up proper.

"I require spirits in vast quantities."

"Loki, I—"

"Do not speak. Just, don't. Drop the children off somewhere. I will be in my quarters."

The Doctor watched him and self-loathing sunk in. Loki ended up caring about the children. The children survived. Happy ending for all, right? The Doctor knew that Santa Anna would spare the women of the Alamo, and same would fall to children. He knew this, and he still pushed Loki. Perhaps too far.

He dropped the children off in Port of Galveston. The pair was still unconscious when he left them at the doorstep of the church. He returned to find Loki waiting for him at the entrance of the TARDIS.

He smiled brightly and patted his friend on the shoulder. "You, me, and ol' girl, eh? Anywhere in time and space, the universe is our oyster. Where to?"

"A bar, preferably off this planet."

The Doctor swung his arm around Loki's shoulder. "I know just the place! Have you ever been to Galapozi?"

The Doctor rambled, the TARDIS hummed, and Loki's mind calmed. The Alamo and the kids were not spoken of, nor their deal. Neither knew who won, and was content for now.

The TARDIS whizzed through the time vortex, and the big bad wolf spun further and further away from the tiny woods near the Alamo. The universe was made of many trees- Trenzalore, Yggdrasil and more.

One day, Loki decided, he will free Fenrir and they will roam the forest of the universe together.


	5. The Truth Comes From the Bottle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly forgot that I had this story on AO3. It's gets updated faster on my fanfiction account. So sorry ;~;

Dead Men Walking

The planet was ancient, born at the beginning of it all, and nearly forgotten. Several races have come and gone, and now only one remains dominant. Their original language is lost, their writings burned, and their potential untapped.

They are kind, forgiving, and far too trusting.

  
**Chapter**   **Five: The Truth Comes From the Bottle**  


As the Doctor discarded the children, Loki sent a shade inside the Zero Room.

The Garnet Rod remained as they left it. In the time since their departure of Midgard's moon, the Doctor has not returned. Weeks have passed since that day, databases have been wiped, and the Doctor's presence in the universe has slowly vanished. Yet, the Doctor has not returned to the peculiar orb—the object that can save the universe or doom them all.

_Does he fear the artifact?_

The Garnet Rod radiated magic, an unknown, foreign magic. Could it be a mixture of science and magic? Loki pondered the nature of Time Keepers, wondering how different they were than Time Lords.

The mysterious nature intrigued him. The shade traced its fingers along the foreign engraving. Often times, Loki would forego sleep in pursuit of scouring through the linguistic books of the TARDIS's library.

_I should know this._

The Doctor returned from the heat of Texas, and Loki called off his shade.

A mystery for another time. For now, the duo headed for Galapozi.

-(/)-

Like any other Tuesday afternoon, the Doctor opened the TARDIS's door and presented an entirely new world to Loki. The god dutifully followed behind the footsteps of his animated friend.

"Welcome Galapozi, home of the Zomans. An ancient race with a very, very long history. Most of it forgotten. Zapped away! Zipped, gone, nada." The Doctor tapped his temple. "Well, I know some of it, but that's another story."

The two walked out of the alleyway. Along the cobblestone street were shops bunched together, an occasional alley breaking them apart.

"For an ancient race, their buildings appear humble."

"Much was forgotten," was the Doctor's vague reply. "A friendly bunch of people though."

Loki focused his attention on the creatures making their way through the square. They were avian humanoid in nature. Feathers pooled out of their skin in a manner similar to fur on apes. Atop their heads were longer feathers, some swaying down to their backs. Beaks took the place of mouths and noses, each slightly different than the other.

They passed several workshops, a fortune teller's, and a bakery. The wafting of bread and pastries sent Loki's stomach in a rambunctious hunger. Not that he would admit it.

The Doctor set about walking down the street, whistling in a common manner. Something was off. His actions spoke of normalcy, but the air about him radiated "pay attention to me." Sure enough, it wasn't long before a crowd formed around them.

"Welcome travelers," greeted an elder. "Our apologies for not giving you a proper Galapozin welcome."

"Yes, yes," said another, "tonight we will drink to your stay."

Travelers did not often come to Galapozi, and the Zomans came accustomed to treating their guests with great care. The crowd ushered them into their local tavern with a rarely used inn upstairs.

One avian creature brushed up against the god's side, but backed away after an intense glare.

Loki glanced over at the Doctor and back to the people. He smirked and can kept the silent observation to himself.

_He cannot sense it. Neither can they. The untapped psychic energy._

If they had landed in the next alleyway over, perhaps the sleeping body slumped against the wall would have tipped the Doctor off to their danger they were soon to collide with.

-(/)-

The spirits were surprisingly strong. Loki, so use to the quality Asgardian ale, did not suspect such a thing. He tilted the glass back, washing away the memories of the Alamo. He glanced at the state of his Doctor who carried on an animated conversation with the barkeep who was talking about his wife. The locals quickly learned to steer clear of the brooding god.

"You remain entirely too sober for me to feel comfortable around," quipped Loki.

The Doctor chuckled in good humor and absently stirred the straw in his nearly full glass. "Oh, I have been reassured of the Jotnar's vast metabolism before. You're barely tipsy. Still fully standsy."

It was a sad state of affairs when a friend knew more about Loki's true species than he. Loki was far too stubborn to ask the Doctor any question, though perhaps he would be the one who could explain how he birthed three beings who most decidedly not receive any Jotun heriatage. Lucky brats. However, asking the Doctor was an easier thought than Odin or any Jotun kin.

Loki drowned his glass and ordered another.

Oh gods, he missed his children.

He may have muttered the last part aloud. Loki acted like nothing happened, ignored the Doctor's pestering, and kept drinking. He cursed the wicked Enchantress, wishing nothing more than to fillet her skin with the sharpest dwarf blade. That vile, twisted, devil-woman! What a fool he had been, thinking—

The Doctor slugged his arm around the god. "You're brooding. Stop it," he said firmly.

Ordering around the God of Mischief wasn't one of the Doctor's most shining moments. Loki brushed away his drooping bangs before turning to give the Doctor a devil's grin. Like that, the god vanished. Cool breath whispered in the Doctor's ear.

"Find me."

A beeline of bumps and surprises cued Loki's departure from the tavern. A tipsy, invisible Loki did not bode well for the good people of Galapozi.

The Doctor slipped out of the bar with apologies and half-empty promises to return. He followed the sound of soft laughter and hiccups. Oh dear, the god brought the alcohol with him.

He passed the bakery and paused at the fortune teller's.  _Madame Stellana_  in brightly painted letters plastered the old building, creating a contrast of old and new. He licked the wooden wall, and twirled the taste between his teeth. Something felt unusual, but Loki's laughter kept drifting away.

"I'll be back, you old devil," he promised to the building and carried on.

He didn't waste much time reaching the outskirts of the woods. He found Loki beneath a tree with several bottles by his side. Thankfully only the one in his hand was near empty. The Doctor calmly sat next to him, and tried to find the right words to say.

He didn't mean for their Alamo escapade to end at the bottom of a bottle. This wasn't some twentieth century country song. He merely wanted to show Loki the goodness of humanity. The bravery. The willingness to sacrifice. To overcome troubles. Instead he unlocked even more issues bubbling inside the god, and now they were gushing out. It was important to bandage the wound now, so the pain doesn't fester and brew.

The Doctor cannot think of what to say, so Loki said it for him.

"You are going to attempt apologies for exploiting my deep seeded issues with children, yes?"

The Doctor nodded.

"Do not bother." Loki sighed and set the now empty bottle aside. "You did not know."

"You can tell me, if you like. This whole business about keeping everything secret or only telling half-truths can be hard to keep up with."

_You would know._

If all the Doctor's lies were kept record, no library could contain such files.

Loki grabbed a full bottle, and nursed it as he let the true tale slip. Or at least, the parts he would admit to being the truth. Under the blanket of stars, and next to his only true friend, Loki confided that it was he who sought guidance from the witch of Ringfjord—not the mother. He was the catalyst that doomed his own children.

Loki suspected he will go to Hel upon his death, no matter what deeds he commits before then, no matter if he falls in battle or not. He was fine with this and would accept whatever his daughter would give him. Perhaps they might reconcile after a few centuries or so until the universe was rebirthed once more. Did his past-selves screw up this much as a parent?

The Doctor did not speak for a long while. His thoughts turned to his own family, those dead or burning within the timelock. He thought of his granddaughter Susan, and the hope of her survival. Seeing his companion like this pained the Doctor. This though, this he could fix.

The Doctor gently pried the bottle from Loki, and filled him instead with a promise:  _we will visit your children when we leave in the morning._

Loki felt momentary happiness, and then doubt. His children will be none too pleased to see him again. He was sure of it. He didn't let the doubt show, and opted to change the subject.

"I heard a most amusing rumor floating around Midgard while I was conquering it."

The Doctor rose a brow.

"My minion asked if Odin's steed was my child!" Loki snorted it. "Can you imagine it? Me giving birth to eight legged Sleipnir? Prosperous!"

The Doctor chuckled, and then stilled in the horrifying thought of Loki having sex with a horse.

"It isn't an unwarranted rumor," Loki carried on. "I did have to distract Svaðilfari to cease getting the gate constructed in due time."

The Doctor requested that Loki stopped talking. Loki merely laughed and grabbed another bottle.

"Come, come, my good Doctor. Tis this not what friends do? Share tales of splendor and humor?"

The Doctor gave in and added to the absurd tales.

"In alternate universe, I married my companions' future daughter. Said alternate universe imploded when I kissed my new wife."

Loki was far too intoxicated to believe he heard that correctly. He gulped more down, the liquid trailing a burn down his throat. He nudged the Doctor to partake in the spirits with him.

The Doctor politely declined. Nothing but melancholy dreams and nightmares came when he indulged. He settled for letting Loki lean against him as they watched the moon drift down the horizon. As normal, the god gave off little heat. The moon's milky orb nestled itself between two mountains, the inevitable question came.

"Do you trust me, Doctor?"

The Doctor was prepared, and does not hesitate. He has no choice, but to be honest.

"I have little trust in your words, but I have faith in your actions."

Loki responded in quietly drifting asleep, content in the answer. An hour edged by with only Loki's soft snores to keep the Doctor company. The Doctor eventually lifted the god up, and nearly teetered over under the weight of lean muscle. Still, the Doctor tossed the god over his shoulder, carrying him to their room at the tavern.

The small room was toasty with only one bed in the corner. Fresh linens covered the bed, and the floors were recently scrubbed. It wasn't often that the town had visitors, and they treated each newcomer with impeccable kindness.

The innkeeper set aside pajamas for the two guests. After laying Loki on the plush bed, came the daunting task of removing intricately layered leather. At times like these, the Doctor wished he knew a few spells. Surprisingly, Loki did not wake up and the Doctor suspected the god was drunker than he let on.

An array of scars and old battle wounds decorated Loki's bare torso. The Doctor cannot help but to picture the winter's babe once held in his arms. He wondered if the blue markings would still be the same after all these years.

Knowing Loki's preference to the cold and the heat of the room, the Doctor left the god in only pajama pants before tucking him in. He neatly tucked Loki's garments and set them on the bedside table.

The night was still young for the Doctor. Madame Stellana called forth a mystery. He left to the cold of the night after whispering a good night to the sleeping mischief maker.

Hours ticked by without his return. By afternoon, Loki woke up to find himself alone.


	6. Lost, Found, and Lost Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the main character is a good guy, except kinda not really.

Dead Men Walking

_Why Doctor? Why must you persist in living in such dreary darkness?_

_You extend your hand in kindness, helping countless across this universe. You save. You rescue. Whenever agony calls, you are there to erase it. So **why**_ ,  _Doctor?_

_No matter._

_This energy is sufficient._

**Chapter Six: Lost, Found, and Lost Again**

Loki awoke alone in the bedroom. He called the Doctor's name, receiving silence in response.

Thirteen hours.

Not even a full cycle of the day and Loki has already lost the Doctor on a completely foreign planet. There must be a record for something like this. Do past companions come together every century or two and keep tally scores? He cringed and messaged his temple. And he somehow has acquired a hangover.

He breathed in a vain attempt to soothe his turbulent brain. No use jumping to conclusions. The Doctor was most likely downstairs bothering some poor soul.

He grabbed his tunic from a pile of neatly folded clothes, the Doctor's work most likely. After properly dressing himself in true princely fashion, Loki exited whatever small bedchambers he slept in and continued down the hallway. Trying to piece together what happened the previous night, he stopped in front of a mirror in the hallway. His favorite green shirt had a giant purple splotch on the side. How did he manage to stain his shirt?

"Greetings newcomer, how faired your night?"

Loki immediately pivoted on his heels to face the speaker—an avian creature in humanoid shape. A sharp beak extended from the creatures face, and longer feathers along her scalp served as a mop of messy hair. Is the creature a female, it had a feminine voice?

Ah, yes, he was on a foreign planet.

"I awoke with my brain nearing to burst, my attire in ruins, and my companion missing."

"Ah, we have a cure for your hangover, best in the galaxy. As for your shirt, it is probably best to not drink so much of our Lyaeus."

"Pardon?"

"The wine you were consuming last night in massive quantities. But come now, let's get you that remedy. We can find the Doctor once you get your mind straight."

The woman led him downstairs to the tavern. The barkeep gave him a knowing, apologetic smile. Loki did not have time such sympathies. The Doctor was missing, and that's was the important issue at hand.  _By gods_ , did the venom from last night wreak havoc in his head. Loki chugged down the putrid stench of what the barkeep set in front of him.

He asked the barkeep and waitresses if they had seen the Doctor. It seems his elusive Time Lord crept away during the night after returning to put Loki in the bed.

A minute passed as the fog and clanging in his mind slowly lifted. Loki clutched his head, blinked a few times, and steered himself out into the unforgiving sun. No wonder the Doctor refrained from the spirits.

The first place checked was the TARDIS. It seemed reasonable; where else would the Doctor go? The doors opened easy enough for him, and he called out in the ship. No answer. He left.

Leaning against the wall outside, Loki ignored the stares of the planet's inhabitants. He fought against his aching mind, and pulled from his magic's core. Controlling his breath and magic, he used his senses to search for the Doctor's presence. It was a simple task. All the inhabitants held untapped psychic energy; it was merely a process of elimination since the Doctor's psychic signature was most decidedly different. Even the Doctor's subconscious had a flare for flamboyancy.

Something was off. If the Doctor's signature was still on the planet, it was incredibly too faint to trace. Loki refused to believe he was freaking out. He tugged at his hair, trying desperately to think, to—

"Excuse me, sir, but are you with the other visitor?"

A young woman stood in front of him, the sunlight blessing her honey brown feathers. She nervously smiled as much as one can smile with a beak. He peered down at her from behind strewn bangs.

"If so, please follow me to my home."

Loki stepped from the shadows, and followed the bird creature.

-(/)-

Call him heartless. Brand him  _monster._  Spin tales of his cruel deeds.

Besides, it probably held a strand of truth.

Let it never be known that the God of Mischief is without compassion. For the moment he saw the Doctor stiller than Death on the hard slab of bed, Loki's chest nearly ruptured. His focused whipped to the older woman behind him.

"What is the foul deed?"

The creature ruffled her feathers in dismay. "I do not know, my sir. My daughter and I found him in this state and took him in." She scratched her beak. "It has become an epidemic in our village, our kin dropping over. But the vitals are still in adequate condition. He's still alive, which is more than I can say for my kin."

Loki smoothed out of the Doctor's face, trying to ignore the feel of sweat.

"When did this start occurring?"

The daughter peeked in from the doorway. "Rumors has it—"

"I do not care for  _rumors_ , child."

"Hmpf. I'm just saying that it seems awfully suspicious that the fortune teller came here four weeks ago, and this tragedy occurred only a few days after."

"We mustn't treat outsiders with suspicion and distrust, Fion." The mother snapped.

Loki disagreed. Blinding treating strangers with respect, acceptance, and kindness led their kind and his Doctor down this path.

Loki directed his attention away from the Doctor and held his eyes on the younger. "You are wiser than your counterparts, little one. It is always best to trust no one." He smirked as her feathers brimmed with his appraisal. "Tell me more, child, and leave behind no detail."

A look of discomfort briefly flashed in her posture, but she straightened out, eager to help and demonstrate her knowledge in swift speech. "The fortune teller came four weeks ago. She calls herself Madame Stellana and claims to hail from the Asteroid Belt Zeta Two-One-Five. She set shop on the corner of Market Street and Venus Avenue. It is custom to greet travelers and new folk to make them feel at home. A few days after her arrival, the same people who greeted her are dropping dead on the streets, the fields, and in their homes." She took a breath. "Excluding this man, there have been twelve cases of these incidents. Not all of the greeters are dead, but we are fearful. Mother—"

" _Fion!_ Hush!"

"Mother and I will most likely die soon if this epidemic is not stopped," she finished quickly.

Taking in her words, the fortune teller seemed like a possible lead. If anything, it was the only route Loki could follow at the moment.

"You will take me to Madame Stellana."

"If she is the cause, can you defeat her?" asked the mother. Although her rigid stance gave nothing to the naked eye, the god felt the weariness radiated off her.

"If she is the madness behind this, I will personally rip out her bones while she still breathes. I will stitch back the holes and leave her as nothing more than a pile of useless flesh for the vultures to feed on. I do not this for sake for you on your daughter or retribution for your people. I do this for the sake of him. Come now. We go."

-(/)-

Loki told Fion to wait outside.

The doors opened in a gust of cool wind, followed the casual stroll of Loki's entrance. The god was all smiles and charm, exuding princely elegance. The shop was humble, as he expected from the state of this planet. It smelt of jasmine and old scrolls. Dark wooden panels creaked beneath his feet, and gave a gentleman's bow to his adversary.

Madame Stellana was human looking in nature; frail, grey, and adorning an eye patch. Loki had enough of people adorning eye patches. The teller crooned at the man, sniffing at the mystic force wafting at him. She eased from her shelves of candles and odd assortments to courtesy in return.

In Asgard, they had the occasional oracle, a teller, a seer, but the weavings of fates were oft left to the norns.

The elderly woman straightened her skirt, and brushed off stray dust. "What brings you here, my good sir?"

Loki smiled, pearly white teeth and all. He was glad to back to full health and it weight. It made it much easier to be charming.

"A wise woman such as you would know the answer."

"Ah, yes, but politeness and pleasantries and the lot. Come. Sit, sit."

The woman attempted ushering Loki to the table. The moment she brushed against his bare hand, she gasped. She backed away, but Loki could see the delight preening behind from her now guarded features.

"You are a lovely lady of quality tastes of what I can see," he complimented in a soothing voice. "What about me could get you riled so?"

The elder, so old and gnarled, felt her heart skip at such kind, foolish words.

"Jotnar blood is said to have the highest saturation of magic," she slipped out.

Loki briefly stilled, but regained composure without her noticing anything amiss. He did not know what year it was. Before or after his faked death? Damn the Doctor. If the woman could sense his nature with a mere touch, she might prove more difficult than anticipated.

The woman tilted her head as if in deep thought. "The jotnar possess a magnificent form. I do not see—"

"I did not come to dally over my attire," he cut in sternly. "I shall take my services elsewhere, perhaps," he added with a nod to the door.

"No, no, that won't be necessary."

He bypassed the table, going deeper into the shop. Shadows danced at the walls, the candle smoke danced in ways that no earthly smoke should, and icy crispness of the air pecked at his skin. Something supernatural was in the working, though Loki could not pinpoint what.

His steps continued, and his mind concentrated.

He could feel it, the quantity of energy building up— a mishmash of threads that simply weren't meant to flow together. Loki tsked at the shoddy work. He paused at a door near the end. Silent screams were clawing from behind, begging for release, for salvation.

How could this town be so unaware?

The plan was simple now. Truly, the woman made it all too easy—letting him walk in here like this. He resisted a wistful sigh, wishing for the days when the universe presented a challenge against his wits. The woman made a cough and gestured at the table. The battle for information was about to unfold. He gathered what he need externally. Now it was time for the mind's work.

Loki sat across from Madame Stellana. The woman was all too eager to grab his hands, to touch. He knew she hungered for the power that he let roll off him in waves. It must have been the same for the Doctor. Except the Doctor didn't know the beacon he sent forth—the same for the rest of the fools inhabiting this planet.

Loki allowed the woman to open the gateway. He slipped into her mind like a snake, but her words cut through before he had a chance to coil.

"You are Loki! Fallen disgrace of Asgard!" She cackled. "Your Queen searches the galaxies for you! And to think, you are a jotun! Tell me, does the King know of her rutting around? Or did—"

Loki lunged across the table and grabbed her throat.

"You will return the Doctor to full health!"

When vocals failed her, she spoke telepathically.

"Ooh, is this the red thread of love, I see? The rumors  _are_ true: the little prince who lusted dallying with those outside his kind. Tell me; is it true about you and your brother?" He squeezed tighter on her windpipe. Even if she could communicate otherwise, she can still feel pain. "You cannot kill me. Not if you want the mad man back."

"Tell me."

"Release me."

Loki ignored her counter. He kept his grip strong on the elder. He lifted her as he returned to the door in the back. The silent screams started up again. Loki promptly kicked the door open and descended down a flight of stars. He flicked on a light switch at the bottom and the silent screams muted down to a whisper.

All that was down below were several rows of shelves filled with jars. Each jar glowed a hue of violet, psychic energy harvested from the victims.

At the very end was the brightest jar, that wasn't violet at all. It was yellow and gold, a shining beacon of psychic energy infused with time energy. It did not scream like the others. It sang. Ancient and old and the call of storms. It reminded Loki of the TARDIS and her lullabies.

Without the barest of glance at Madame Stellana, Loki reopened the mind's connections. It was made much easier with predetermined gateways set up by her. He returned back to the plan.

_You will tell me how to return his power._

They were in the black of the mind's cosmos. It's been so long since he forced his way into someone's mind; a forbidden act sinned for the Doctor's sake.

He gazed inside. Twists and turns and traps that often came with an opponent in tune with mind's magic. He performed like a surgeon, cutting and uprooting until he found what's needed.

There. The answer.

He should have dropped out at that point. Yet he was curious.

_Why do you require this much energy?_

He was greeted with a single image: a woman in black with a twisted smile adorning an eye patch. He really hated eye patches. From her stance and stature, Loki gathered the woman to be a leader or ruler of sorts.

Loki gave a vicious grin and released her from his control.

She needed to feel what was going to happen next.

-(/)-

Loki carefully explained his instructions to Fion. He found it best not to assume that everyone wasn't on the same wave length and could process things as quickly as he could. Plans tended to work better if cohorts were on the same page—assuming Loki wasn't going to play the trickster's part in the end.

They were back by the Doctor's bedside after Loki dealt with fortune teller.

"I have to go inside the Doctor's subconscious and reline him with his energy. You will be my anchor, allowing me to work quicker and go in deeper. Following me?"

Fion nodded, but her mother looked worried at the doorway.

"I have written down a chant. If things appear to be heading grim, speak it. It will bring me back to this earthly realm, so use your better judgment."

Loki sat cross legged in a wooden chair at the foot of the Doctor's bed. He looked down in front of him at the Doctor's head resting on the pillow. He looked so ancient and disheveled. Loki's nimble fingers fixed the askew bow-tie.

Closing his eyes, Loki outstretched his hands, spread his fingers and begun his work. Fion opened the jar, and Loki channeled the time energy. Green magics pooled from his fingertips, and the golden essence swirled and mixed with the green. The green and gold circled the Doctor, twisting around his limbs and core. Gently, methodically, Loki soothed the gold back into the Doctor's core until only traces remained hovering above him.

The true work was about to begin. To truly be brought back anew, Loki needed to reach deep inside the Doctor's subconscious. It would be a dream-like realm; a plane of existing and non-existing, where logic did not mean logical. Loki planted his hands on the Doctor's forehead, and then hesitated.

The first time their mind's connected was of violation. The second was hesitance, barely touching to show how the universe's forest worked. Now to reach deep, would this be a sin? Against their unspoken, unclear boundaries? Loki knew the Doctor's life depended on it. Perhaps if he were the Doctor or Thor, he would find another way. Yet Loki remained Loki, and in the end, did what he wanted.

Which was to save the Doctor.

If he had to, Loki would tear apart the universe.

-(/)-

Grass swayed as the wind blew. The fields of evergreen grass carried on in all directions for miles. Above him, the crescent moon did not move with time, keeping a steady dim light for him to trek on. Loki did not know where he was or where he should go. He simply walked.

It may have been a few minutes or an hour, time passing in dreams was always tricky business. Eventually the fields of grass curved to a hill. Atop the hill sat a bush full of flowers. Nestled between the greenest leaves were blue roses.

The breeze shifted. The scent of roses stirred, causing Loki to glare at the bushes. His nostrils flared at the disgusting fragrance. With an elegant flick of the wrist, the bush disintegrated in green flames. From the ashes arose smoke in the form of a human woman. The moonlight shined brighter, and Loki saw the woman face was a blank slate.

"You wish to rescue him."

The voice was cold and airy, and spoke a plain fact. Many questions buzzed in Loki's mind, but he didn't have time to display them all. In a quick succession of blinks, he remembered his purpose of being here.

"Correct."

"He left two messages for you. First: you fight a creature as old as the Time Lords, be careful."

He let the information sink in. A manic smirk played on his lips. It wasn't everyday an opportunity to destroy an ancient being presented itself. He destroyed the teller's mind, crippling her. He felt alive, anew, accomplished. Now to save the Doctor.

"Speak the second."

"This world is deteriorating." The smoke dispersed, shifting into a single word before being blown away by the wind.  **Run**.

Behind him, the earth crackled. He did not look back as he raced toward the descending moon.

"O God of Mischief," the smoking voice whispered in his ear. "O Harbinger of Destruction. You cannot love the Doctor as I do."

He ignored the voice. Behind him, the grass and dirt were caving in to a deep void. He leapt to keep ahead.

"Most importantly," the voice continued, "he cannot love you as he loved me."

Ahead of him, the moon was falling. He prepared his body from one giant leap of faith. His limbs coiled, and then sprung. He reached towards the light, and let it wash over. Leaving the darkness behind, he allowed one question.

"Who are you?"

"A woman of many names."

The shadows left and Loki only knew brightness.

This must be it. He poured the gold magic, hoping this was what was needed to wake the Doctor. Gold streamed from every inch of his body, and Loki concentrated on only one pure thought.

_Please, wake up._

And his world crashed around him.

-(/)-

He awoke. Alive and breathing and the flesh. The Doctor's nearly leapt out of the bed, but his legs still lumbered with sleep and weariness. Small, unfamiliar hands steadied his body as the Doctor sat up. He glanced down to see a young woman. Her kind features were skewered with worry.

Fion and her mother helped turn the Doctor so he could face the person behind him. The figure was slumped over in the chair, his chest barely moving.

Skin, the shade of the sky. Hair, blacker than midnight. Horns, sprouted and curved like the devil himself. The Doctor resisted the temptation to run his fingers along the skin's line, reminiscent of Van Gogh's Starry Night.

He knew he wished to see Loki in his true form, but not like this.

Whatever happened was serious enough to strip Loki of adapted form, and the Doctor planned to get to the bottom of it.


	7. I am Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be alarmed/worried/confused about the writing tense shift. You might recall something similar happening in a chapter of In the Midst of Liars, so things happen for a reason. If there's any further questions, message me. I'm happy to oblige C:

Dead Men Walking

Being in two places at once was not a new experience nor was being two people. For in the end, the different faces were merely a skin shallow mask. Yet, now he was Loki and another Loki—one who is still growing, whose life was completely different.

**Chapter Seven: I am Real**

Ragnarok passes. Lifetimes of Yggdrasil's fruit sprung anew.

A small Loki idly sits by one of the few rivers that flow through Jotunheim. In this life, his skin had not once paled to Aesir pink. His father does not leave him to the harsh Winter. He is loved.

Yet years pass by, some memories reawaken. He knows his fate even if not the end; he knows good things do not last in his lifetimes.

He sticks his feet in the water, a pleasure not often graced to the prince. He watches his image distort in the river. Misshaped blocks of ice float by.

It is of his past life. One of his favorites.

He wishes of more memories of the mad man and his blue box. Yet he has only one, the last one.

In the fluid motion of the river, Loki witnesses the Doctor's death for the final time.

To stop deadly retribution, to save Loki's past self, a high price had to be paid. Loki did not understand  _why_  a man would commit such an act, for Loki had but one memory of the elusive Doctor.

-.-.-.-

He asks his father questions. Not of the Doctor, for Loki is not ready. He asks of the past cycles. Laufey cannot meet his son's eyes.

Perhaps regret, Loki thinks.

Days pass as Loki continues to question.

His father finally admits one thing, that this cycle is by far his favorite. This pleases Loki, like a warm winter washing over him, but he needs to know about the Doctor.

Laufey kneels next to his son, his huge blue fingers smooth over the gems in Loki's long black hair.

"I must be dreaming," the king murmurs.

-.-.-.-

Sometimes, Loki thinks he can hear the Doctor's voice.

He spends his nights staring out the window, hating how a man could consume his thoughts. This is madness.

The man couldn't hail from Midgard nor Asgard. One look at the man told Loki that the Doctor didn't possess the frailty or idiocy that plagues the others who bare pink flesh.

The moon nests high aloft the night's sky. Loki wishes to pluck it from the stars. Which of those stars is the home of the Doctor?

Those words, that silky voice enters his ears again.

_'I will save you,'_

His red eyes close. The moons and stars vanish, his world dark. As it ought to be.

-.-.-.-

Helblindi sits and brushes his brother's hair.  _Hair_ , even the word feels foreign and rare upon his tongue.

Helblindi is still smaller than his older brother, but both are aware that such things will change. Helblindi grows rapidly, destined to soon tower his older, runt of a brother. They do not speak of it, and hghu

The strangest thing occurs. The brush strikes against a nub in Loki's long midnight hair.

Helblindi squeals in delight. "You have horns! Horns, brother! Who is the lucky soul?"

Loki responds by pushing the younger aside and standing in front of his bedroom mirror. He parted through the midnight and stared gapingly at the two nubs sprouting from his below.

"We must inform the king," his brother chants happily behind him. "Horns!"

Horns were a special marking in a Jotun's life. It means the Jotun experienced love, pure love for the first time.

Loki possesses no recollection of such an occurrence. Surely, it would have been remarkable! He had read literature in the lost libraries on many subjects, a few being on the concept of love. Many poems and elf songs were dedicated to the emotion in fact, yet he feels nothing toward any jotun. Perhaps family love or platonic, but not romantic. Romance is for children.

More than a few jotuns live their entire lives without horns. Loki pokes at the dream killers nesting on his skull. He squints. They are sensitive and barely noticeable, not unlike his small stature.

Little time passed before the king notices the growing nubs, no matter how hard Loki stuck to the shadows. Laufey questions who the soul was gifted with Loki's first pure love, and Loki continues to remain silent on the subject.

Loki does not know the answer, and that frightens him to no end.

-.-.-.-

Loki hears the Doctor's pleas.

Not to him, but to the Tree.

Let Loki be happy. Let him live peacefully in this cycle. Let the Tree take what is necessary.

Loki listens to the Doctor's voice deep into the night, lulling him to sleep. The nights pass, and his horns grow.

-.-.-.-

No longer can Loki see in the mirror without the reflection of his past sneering at him.

"You are a fool," it jabs. "You are blind to this prison's walls. Wake up and See."

-.-.-.-

Months pass among the books of the kingdom's libraries. Loki is desperate. Each word is read. Nothing is found.

-.-.-.-

The reflection sighs. "He will come," it says not to Loki but to itself. "He will come."

Assurance.

-.-.-.-

The world has spun for seventeen years afore this day, this moment. Loki reaches adulthood, no less knowledgeable than before. Five years have passed since the Doctor plagued his mind.

The reflection is silent.

Laufey offers no words save his love.

Sometimes, when alone which is often, Loki pokes at the fines points sprouting from his skull.

-.-.-.-

"Do you not care for your gifts, my jewel?"

Loki wants to say yes. The jewels shine like no others. They rival stars in beauty, and Loki will hold such rarity to his heart. But his heart tells him something is missing.

Loki picks up a red ruby, rolls it against his contrasting fingers. "It is more than I can hope for, my King." There is a pause. "Yet I desire knowledge."

Laufey holds his breath.

"Speak to me of this Doctor. Surely the name brings forth something. He weaves himself into my dreams and plagues my waking thoughts. I hear his voice. It is that of silk and honey; soft and fierce. He leaves the smell and taste of a storm. I implore you not as a subject to his ruler, but as a son to his father!"

"Tis best that you cease thinking of him." Laufey says this as gently as he can to his jewel.

"I cannot! Tis not a matter of where I will or will not; I simply cannot!"

Laufey turns away before his son can see a tear roll down his cheek.

"He is danger and fire, little jewel. Abandon him, you possess the strength for it. Rip his essence from you. Stay safe with you father in Jotunheim."

-.-.-.-

"Reflection," says Loki sharply, "you have grown silent this pass year."

Green eyes stare back at him. Pale flesh mirrors his blue.

"You do not directly speak of the Doctor, yet I know it is of him you refer. Speak, past-self. I have grown tired of ignorance."

It chuckles, but does not reply.

"You have ceased your mutterings of him coming. Is the Doctor not as grand as once thought?"

It smiles, wolfish and knowing, and answers.

"He is already here. Searching. Looking."

-.-.-.-

There are nights when Loki lays back in isolated snow. The cold is forgiving and wanted. He discards his meager garments to the nearby stones. Privacy, alone in the wilds. The snow is welcoming on the bare flesh of his back, and his hands drift southward. The heat of his groin is released into the night.

His heavy breath and thumping heart accompany the sound of the wilds. His thoughts drift to the Doctor and his voice, and the heat returns. Everything aches with pleasure, that Loki is sure to give into.

-.-.-.-

Loki lulls over what the reflection spoke.

The Doctor was alive.

The Doctor was searching.

He must have been for years.

And Loki can be patient no longer.

-.-.-.-

The cup is made of stone, filled with icy blood. For a brief moment, Loki thinks he sees the reflection. He dips in a long blue finger, distorting his mind's tricks. He traces circles and lines along the cold stone floor. He places the needed gems.

He does not have time to wonder why he has not attempted this before.

He sends forth a beacon. A signal. A ray of hope.

It sends out his presence, his essence. It cried: come find me, Doctor.

Hours pass, a new moon rises. Loki still sits among the rune blood.

The Doctor has not come.

-.-.-.-

War sings its deathly tune. Loki supposes it's inevitable to clash with sometimes-brother. He finds it humorous that Thor does not remember the past as clearly as himself.

He laughs and taunts his almost-brother.

The war lasts for two years.

-.-.-.-

There are eight Loki's. There are none. He exists and does not against the battle with Thor.

Their fathers are elsewhere, fighting among the rubbled palace.

Thor's hammer is fierce, yet inaccurate, unable to slam the correct foe. Another swing, another ghost-Loki burst into green mist only to be replaced. Mirthful laughter caresses Thor's ears. He is surrounded, confused, and he roars.

Loki cuts another wound across the Asgardian's back with a flick of his dagger. Red shines on his dagger, casting the reflection. It smirks.

A fist pummels Loki's stomach, and it's by sheer luck that he dodges the blunt of Thor's weapon.

A piercing cry erupts and Thor halts in his assault. It is not until he pushes himself, does Loki realize that it was Odin's scream. Loki pants and heaves, and wills his body not to crumple from exhaustion.

His blood puddles, slushing in the snow. He leaves before his reflection has times to laugh.

-.-.-.-

His father has won the great Odin's eye. Loki wears it around his neck, heavy with burden and reminder. He does his best to push aside thoughts of the Doctor, for surely his past-self has lied. It is nothing new.

The Doctor is dead.

The Doctor never existed.

Loki is not sure, but the Doctor is surely gone.

-.-.-.-

It begins when Thor catches sight of the All-Father's lost eye. His rage is as crimson as Loki's eyes.

Or perhaps it begins ages before.

Loki does not wish for this. He does not want war, only to be left alone in this cycle. It seems the Norns will have none of it.

It ends with a dagger between the ribs and poison on Thor's tongue. Loki cannot find himself to kill Thor in mutilation as his father would have it.

He pulls out the blade gently from the heart. He leaves the lifeless body, too cowardly to cry in victory over his once-brother.

The river is calm, maroon in mixed blood.

The reflection is not pale, but a deep red.

Loki cries. And then he hears it, the familiar mechanics of the beast he has forgotten. Loki does not move and continues to stare into the river's bloody hue. The reflection is gone.

"My, you gods sure know how to live! Can't tell you how many spans it took for me to each you. Well, actually, I  _can_. Precisely one hundred and eight. It's like plucking a cherry in a basket of tomatoes. Do they have cherries here?"

Loki sees the Doctor in the water and sighs. "Ah. It takes shapes and rambles of the Doctor."

The feel of a hand on Loki's shoulder speaks more volume than the Doctor's words can. Loki stands and turns. The shock of seeing the Doctor sends Loki's steps backwards. The Doctor reaches out and snags Loki before the river can claim another token of war.

The Doctor holds the Jotun close. Their height difference is even greater than the past, and the man's head rests on Loki's broad chest. Loki shakes.

"Y-you are a trick," Loki says. "Sent by Odin. You must be…" His forehead nests on brunette locks, careful of his horns. He cherishes the Doctor's embrace, strong and tight and loving. "I thought you dead. Tis all I remember of you, pleading before the Trenzalore for my sake."

"Listen carefully," the Doctor whispers and his breath is like fire. "This is an illusion. Everything but you and I stems from your mind."

"No," Loki retorts. "No dream lasts twenty years." He is not crying.

"Trust me."

"Why?"

"You put your arms around me and stand so close as if we're old friends." Or something more. "Even if the tip of your mind doesn't recall me, you can't stop years of memory, of trust. Please, please, wake up."

"Everything was going great until the war came," Loki murmurs. "War always comes. No matter how I run or lie or achieve joy. War comes and destroys. Even in my dreams."

The Doctor knows this, all too familiar. It pangs him to see Loki experience this. "I will never let war harm you again."

Blue lips find the Doctor's ear, and his breath is cold with truth. "A pleasing, happy lie." He lifts the Doctor's chin, and stares hard into ancient eyes. He kissed those lips, for surely he must have in the past. "I accept it."

 _Oh._ That is why he has horns.

The world dissolved until it was the Doctor and Loki standing still amongst the mind's cosmos.

"When you rescued me from the Stellanna woman, you triggered a counter-spell. This is merely a projection of a possible reality brought on by magic, psychic power, and past-lives. Nothing is real."

This Loki was the product of a dream, of time spent loved in Jotunheim.

"Once I awaken, this self will no longer truly exist, I presume." A nod. "I am me, Doctor. I am Loki. I will always exist. I will always be Loki." He is not crying. Loki does not cry. "I will always exist."

This Loki would only remain as a fraction of the true Loki.

"I do not want to go. Of all my lives, this is the happiest. I am coated in the blood of my once-brother, my home is in ruins, and yet this is still the  _happiest_ I have ever been."

The Doctor wipes the tears, ignoring the sting of winter's flesh. "I will give you the happy ending you deserve. No fates nor creatures nor the stars themselves will deter me from giving you a happy ending."

Loki cannot see if this is a lie or a false-promise. It more farfetched than the last, but his chest tells him to accept once more. Is this his heart speaking? Is this love? Did his true-self experience such a notion?

He clings to the mortal, flesh to flesh, the burn of winter fades. His chest aches. He is real, Loki tells himself. He is real. He is real. Loki is real. What would he be like once he awakes?

"This past-me, the true-me, is miserable, Doctor. If that is true, something not fabricated by this dream, you give him happiness. I have waited years to see you; do not make me regret cutting my time with you."

The Doctor whispered a farewell.

The dream Loki's final words echo as reality crashed back.

_I am real._

_Remember me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the majority of this during the process of writing In the Midst of Liars, so I'm very pleased to finally share it with you guys.


	8. Interlude: Time and Change

Time was a force that caused change.

Asgard was stagnant. It did not change, opting to remain still and dull and full of mistakes. Loki hoped it not to be a result of Gallifrey's absence in Asgard's and Jotunheim's presence. The Doctor would be against such a thought, but Loki knew the Nine Realms. He knew each affected the other. An alternate, reasonable conclusion was the staleness of those in power for too long. Laufey and Odin lived too long, immune to Time.

The Doctor was a creature of Time, always changing. New faces, new companions, new adventures.

And what of Loki? Born in frozen Jotunheim, raised on Asgard. Both places so  _stagnant._ Yet Loki's lives have varied over his lifetimes. Once, the God of Fire. Once, a ginger. Once, a gentle soul. Always, the bringer of the end. Loki shapeshifts. Loki could  _change_.

Once, Loki experienced happiness: in this life, in old-lives, in his dreamt-life. Yet Time changes, and happiness became fleeting.

A creature of Change, of shifting, could be wonderful. To experience new wonders, new landscapes, to rediscover yourself. Is that not what the Doctor does?

Yet Loki spent his youth in Asgard. Youth which was so shapeable and moldable. Ostracized, jeered for being different in an unchanging culture. Stared at for being to shift, to alter the reality in front of people.

Time and Change were beasts of similar nature, so compatible, so  _destructive._


	9. Recovery

Dead Men Walking

People grow and change, that is the nature of life. Loki, a shapeshifter, was a creature of change by heart. But that as merely what was on the outside. What of his core?

  
**Chapter Eight:**  Recovery

The spare bedroom smelt of mint and vanilla. Morning light came in through the frosted window. The planet's season had changed to winter in Loki's absence. Loki pushed himself up, and set his feet to the cold, wooden floor. He sat still, not sure if vertigo would agree with standing.

Or at least, the floor should be cold.

Loki stared at his skin. He was very, very blue. His hideous form left open for the Doctor to continue to see.

"Avert your eyes."

Loki closed his scarlet eyes in concentration. Pink, pale flesh clouded over blue until Loki became his preferred self. The Doctor disobeyed, and Loki folded over with his face hidden behind hands.

"You won't suppose to see that," he muttered. The Doctor wasn't suppose to see the monster.

For once, the Doctor knelt before Loki. His knees on the floor, hands placed on Loki's. He parted them from Loki's face, and wished to see such lovely, blue once more.

He couldn't speak the words, "No star or galaxy, no jewel or crown can compare to beauty I saw." They burned in his throat, but the Doctor swallowed them. He settled for, "There's no need to hide a pretty face."

Loki wanted to grab the man by the collar, wanted to whisper needs against such flesh, "Don't ever leave me again, my Doctor." He didn't, and cursed what must be the after-feelings of his dream-self. His eyes slipped to the side, averting the Doctor's gaze. "You're so troublesome."

"Always," he promised. "Now, let's get you up and moving."

Loki traced the man's jaw line and the stubble. "You require a shave and haircut." A rumble echoed from the man's belly. "And a hefty meal, it appears. How long have you traveled through the dreams?"

"Just a few months," he answered casually. "The family gave us a safe room and allowed me to use their psychic powers to rescue you in thanks for saving them."

"We must head back to the TARDIS. I shall cook you a fitting meal in thanks. I wonder if they have an equivalent to elk living in these woods. I can…" His voice trailed off. The Doctor,  _his_ Doctor, had drifted off to sleep while kneeling. "I suppose staying awake for a long period has that effect."

Loki grabbed hold of the Doctor's gangly arms, trying to figure out how he was going stand without falling. Not using his body for a few months was bond to prove problematic. At that moment, two familiar faces popped from the door way—Fion and her mother.

The older woman was surprisingly strong, able to carry the Doctor to their destination by herself. Fion let Loki use her as a crutch, and she quietly talked to him in a low voice. She remained unheard by her mother thanks to the bustle of the town.

"I snuck back into Madame Stellana's a few nights after you went to sleep. I saw the blood in the basement." She didn't appear upset. "I don't care what you did to her, but her body is not there."

Impossible. Loki left there—alive but broken. Crippled beyond thinking or moving.

"That's not my concern," she continued. "I searched the place top to bottom trying to find out what she was up to. Tell me; are my mother and I safe?"

Loki racked his brain, trying to remember. The dream-self's memories were still there, nearly two decades worth of memory before remembering what happened before that. It would most likely fade in time.

"The jars," he said suddenly. Yes, jars were important. Why were jars important? "In the basement, did you see jars?"

"Like the one with the golden glowy stuff you used to revive the Doctor?"

"Yes. It was a different color. Violet, I believe."

"There were no jars?"

Loki did not stop in movement; he carried on with the same expression on his face. This could prove dangerous. He did not care what happened to this planet's inhabitants. As much as the girl was useful, he had more pressing matters like recovering and fetching his son. On the other hand, the woman was missing and their faces. Loki couldn't risk Asgard or Midgard knowing of his return.

He needed to know the year.

"You are safe, child," he said. If the jars were gone with the energy, Fion would be passed out like the others.

They arrived at the alleyway with the TARDIS. Loki fiddled around in the Doctor's jacket to find the key. Once inside, Loki wanted for the pair to stop marveling at the technology.

"You truly were a gift from the stars," murmured the mother.

Not having the slightest inclination of where the Doctor slept, Loki led them to his chambers. The mother laid the Doctor's sleeping form in the plush bed, and brought the blankets to cover the man. Loki also knew little of time lords themselves, unsure of their body's requirements, if the blankets were useful—if the Doctor would be okay.

All the books in the library concerning the time lords were written Gallifreyan, a language Loki was still in the process of learning.

He was helpless.

And these people were still here.

"My gratitude, but we'll be taking our leave."

The mother thanked them for saving the village, and Fion smiled and waved good-bye.

The TARDIS hummed, signaling they were alone once more.

Loki crawled in the bed, too worn out to move about. He made plans. He needed to return to the Fortune Teller's shop, see if any traces were left behind.

He laid there for hours, accompanied by the Doctor's soft snores.

The time came when he decided to hell with it, and decided to make them some tea. Loki took in a deep breath and stepped on the cold floor. His legs wobbled, but no one could see the weakness. He glanced at the ceiling, and told the TARDIS to alert him if anything went awry.

He rummaged through pantries and the shelves, and tsked at the need to restock groceries. He grabbed a kettle, filled it with the appropriate amount of water, and set it on the stove. With a touch of magic, he started the fire. His fingertip stung, and pain rang through his core. He grimaced.

Whether it was the aftermath of prolonged dream sleep or Stellana woman's doing, something was wrong with his magics. Given time and rest, Loki should recover in due time.

He sat on the counter, and closed his eyes. The cold frost of his dream-life was still fresh in his mind. He did not think of the end of it—of how his dream-self kissed the Doctor, an act of which felt so natural. He pushed the dream-memories out, settling to focus on further back at his past.

(-)

_The animated, manic nature of the Doctor's new skin reminded Loki of child who found hidden sweets. There was a rhythm to the Doctor's movements, a dance as old and tireless as time. To the naked eye, to those new to the Doctor, they would view him as recklessly ambling amuck. Loki knew better. One was not careless with a thousand years under the built._

_The first place the Doctor took him to was nothing special: a quaint barber shop on the other side of the galaxy. As an orange man shampooed and trimmed Loki's mane, the Doctor told him of the layout of this place they would be breaking into._

_"As marvelous as espionage is on my first day out, is it wise to speak of such plans in front of others?"_

_The orange man smiled, and the beard-tentacles swayed in glee. "I assure you, friend, the downfall of these people is why I'm doing this for free."_

_"But no killing," the Doctor amply followed after the Loki grinned wickedly. "These are still_ people _."_

_The Doctor did not speak of why. In the end it was a simple information retrieval mission without leaving any traces. Loki did not ask why. He did not care._

(-)

The water hissed and bubbled. Loki hopped off the counter and continued making tea for when the Doctor awoke. His body lagged behind his mind, worn and tired.

(-)

_Sirens rang in the background. The room flashed red on and off. Intruders._

_Loki stood over a man tied to a chair—a human who had witnessed their actions. Although his magic was still diminished by Odin's acidic prison, a dagger to the tongue would easily silence the quivering mess on the floor. See? No killing._

_He glanced to the side; the Doctor was on the other side of the door, still erasing whatever files. He needed to hurry before the Doctor interrupted him. It was for the best._

_He unsheathed his dagger._

_He bent over and gave the worker a charming smile. "Tis best if you cease squirming. You wouldn't want me to slip, yes?"_

_"You are with the Doctor. He shows mercy and_ compassion _."_

_Oh what a monster he has become, eyes clouded by misjudgment._

_The room flashed red and Loki chuckled._

(-)

Loki poured the tea into two cups and placed on them on a tray. He went back to his room where the Doctor slept. He set the tray on the bedside table, and sat at the end of the bed. He regretted keeping his room so sparse aside from the stacks of books.

"Do you recall our first outing?" He said softly. "Well, our first outing after you rescued me."

He laughed softly to himself.

"I was so afraid."

The Doctor snored.

"Not of the quest. The quest was simple." Loki breathed. Funny; he could admit the truth when no one could hear him. "I thought for sure you would see me as I am—as a monster. I thought you would cast me out. I do not deserve mercy, you know."

Loki knew he did not deserve the Doctor's mercy, compassion, or kindness. He killed countless people, committed genocide, and would be at the center of Ragnarok. He did not deserve the kind man who took him to see splendorous sights, who believed there was something worth saving inside of the monster. He was no longer the babe that the Doctor saved in the war nor the kid he befriended in the palace.

(-)

_The Doctor didn't stop shouting. The TARDIS's calming hum did nothing to calm either of the mad men._

_"What did I tell you!?"_

_"I did as you asked! I did not kill anyone!"_

_"You_ maimed _!"_

_"Would you rather I carve out his eyes? Would you rather I cripple his limbs and discarded him in space? It was the best option."_

_"There is_ always _a better option. You are clever, you could have thought of something else. You could have waited for me."_

 _"Oh right. I forgot how you're the cleverest man alive, but not clever enough to realize you harbor a_ monster _."_

(-)

An hour passed before the blinked his eyes opened. Or maybe two hours or three. Loki's sense of time became skewered. As the Doctor drank the tea, silence passed between. Talkative, animated Doctor was quiet. It wasn't entirely rare, but Loki didn't know what to do.

He tried thanking the Doctor for saving him. It felt odd on his princely tongue.

The Doctor burst out laughing, spewing his tea over the blankets. "And a thank  _you_  for rescuing me from that woman." He rubbed his noggin, phantom traces of pain from when she knocked him out. "I'm afraid I don't remember much. Packed a real whopper, she did." He squeezed his eyes, thinking, thinking, thinking. Forgetting something important; something familiar.

"She was storing psychic energy. Haven't a clue why."

You kissed me, the Doctor wanted to say. Instead, "Gimme a day and we can go see that soon of yours."

-(/)-

A few days passed until the Doctor was healthy enough to amble about the TARDIS. The Doctor walked down the halls of the TARDIS. He passed the library where Loki was most likely surrounded by a circle of books.

He went to the Zero Room.

The Garnet Rod awaited him.

The Doctor knew he had to a duty to uphold. A duty he needed help with. The ritual would kill the Doctor and whoever in the process, yet the universe would crumble into nonexistence.

Could he ask Loki? Could he ask Loki to sacrifice his life to help save what he despised?

_"He will become the God of Evil."_

Pluto was wrong.

Loki saved the kids at the Alamo. Loki defeated the fortune teller and saved a village. Loki rescued the Doctor.

Pluto had to be wrong.

The Doctor touched the Rod, careful not to touch the Orb and alter his DNA. The encryption was still a mystery. After Fenrir, he would visit libraries and those a master in linguistics.

"I will find a way, Pluto. I can save the universe without killing us. Just you watch me."

Unbeknownst to the Doctor, an invisible shade of Loki observed him.


	10. A Mother's Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -calmly adds more plot and Frigga feels-
> 
> Quick reminder: Madame Kovarian is Eye Patch Lady from series six.

Dead Men Walking

Thor lied. All of Asgard did not mourn at Loki's absence.

Their mother's sorrow was enough for the entire realm.

  
**Chapter Nine:**  A Mother's Love

Thor walked tiredly away from the broken Bifrost, his heart heavy with the news he must tell his mother. When he arrived to find her waiting at the edge of the city, he immediately wrapped in his arms, wanting to protect from things a mother should never bear. Her tears wetted his golden locks as she grieved. He neglected to mention that Loki let go.

For months beyond months, Frigga locked herself away from her subjects and her family. She berated herself. If only she had paid more attention. If only she loved him more. If only she was a better mother.

Then the news came. Loki lived. Alive on Midgard. He brought chaos to the mortals, and soon destruction. Her husband still weak, Frigga conjured the dark magic necessary to send her first son to fetch the second.

"You bring him home," she instructed.

The next arrival did not come from her sons, but the Doctor. He wore a new face than the list. He was all smiles and manic energy. When she informed of the news, she saw a flash of a younger, darker Doctor that crashed into their palace so many moons ago.

A funny thing happened. The Doctor begged for forgiveness. In a jumble of words, the Doctor admitted to planting the idea of kingship in Loki's mind.

"I meant well, honest! He is a clever boy and could end battles without bloodshed. Could've brought Asgard into a new era. I'm so sorry, I—"

And when Frigga informed him that the desire still would have been there without the Doctor, his voice still did not quit.

"I rescued him from the fall on the bridge, but I still couldn't save him from drowning. I should have seen the signs. I should—"

Instead Frigga thanked the Doctor for saving her son, ("But I didn't save him!") told him that Loki was on Midgard, and that Thor was fetching him before he caused too much damage. Before the Doctor could possibly speak his fault once more, Odin ordered silence in his court.

Odin spoke of a way to repay his debt. "We cannot let Loki leave us, but his magic allows him to be slippery in our grasp. We need to keep him in Asgard, away from causing mischief in the other realms."

The Doctor knelt, but Frigga saw the spark in his eyes. The same spark oft found in her son's. The Doctor was plotting.

When he completed the room for Loki to stay, the Doctor smiled and left. She had expected him to stay, but she supposed he was always on the move. Within the next hour, Odin had the room refurnished with a few adjustments.

-(/)-

The rainbow bridge was still broken, but beneath her feet. She awaited the reunion, her husband firmly beside her. His jaw still, eyes hard. Time passed in an uncomfortable silence, waiting for the inevitable. A million scenarios plagued Frigga's mind. They vanished when the moment finally came.

Her boys came home.

Her eyes widened. A clutter of emotions bombarded Frigga: shock, horror, and joy to name a few at her sons' return home. Thor did not stand as proudly as he used to, a shadowed mirror to the man who once returned preening with victory in tow after questing. In tow was Loki. Bound in chains. Muzzled. Worn and beaten. They stepped away from the broken edges of the bridge, a reminder of Loki's fall from grace.

Within mere seconds, Frigga captured Loki in a warm, soothing embraced. Loki kept his eyes downward. The chains fell from Thor's grip, clanking. Loki remained frozen; not daring to move, not wanting to. Thor stood awkwardly to the side as Frigga cooed in Loki's ear.

"Everything will be okay."

Both sons wished for nothing more. Odin cleared his throat, a reminder of what to come.

Frigga kissed Loki's forehead.

"It's good to have you back."

-(/)-

There were days that King and Queen did not see eye to eye. If she were in a humorous mood, she would crack that it was due to him having only one good eye. Days similar to this (and, oh, how they existed long before this,) she desired to make him truly blind. This day leaned towards carving her fingers into his full eye socket.

Odin gripped her arm tightly as she attempted to leave their bed chambers. His grip was strong, but it did not hurt. He knew his strength and her tolerance. He knew the look in her eyes, telling him he neared a step too far.

"You mustn't coddle the boy. He must atone for his crimes."

At times, Odin thinks his wife to be too soft. Loki seized the king's crown through trickery, committed genocide among Jotunheim, killed countless mortals, and attempted to rule of Midgard. Did his wife not see this? Did his queen ignore this?

"It has been a week, I will see my son if I please."

The next words that came out of his mouth, Odin immediately regretted.

"Can you not see what he is becoming? He is not your son!"

The slap echoed in their chambers. She swept to the doorway, leaving her husband behind. As Frigga turned a corner of the corridor, Thor bumped into her with somber news.

He informed her that the Doctor was reported deceased on Midgard.

-(/)-

She stepped into his imprisonment.

Loki tried hiding it, but his mother saw through her child's facade.

"The Doctor always leaves."

Loki broke. He cracked further than before, and she could only watch.

_I'm so sorry._

-(/)-

Her world smelt of smoke and burnt flesh. Even atop the roof of Asgard's tallest tower, she could not escape the scent that filled her nostrils and lungs. There was no escape from the awful truth. Her son was dead. She sits at the edge, her legs dangling down.

She observed her golden city of which her king ruled. Her living son joined her. Thor sat next to her. They watched the sun dip below the golden landscape, and the silver-white moon rise.

"When Loki was a small thing, we sat up here to watch the moon rise," she recalled softly. "I ponder what he will do the pass his time in Niflheim."

"His daughter remains silent on his whereabouts in Niflheim," Thor said. "I do hope they reconnect."

"Death has brought stranger tidings," she mused.

Frigga pulled her boy close, and put her soft hand atop his large one. As of late, Thor has been sullen and quiet. He hardly spoke of Jane or the warriors of Midgard anymore. It tore at Frigga to see her family being shredded.

"I am sorry, Mother. I tried and—"

She grew tired of apologies.

"Hush, dear. You cannot be and are not blamed."

She could feel the anger rising up in her son. Directed at no one save himself. A reflection of his father in the younger days.

"I should—"

"No, Thor. Do not speak anything flush or commit rash actions. I have been blessed with two sons, and I will not lose them both."

They watched the moon together, and Thor left for Midgard the next day.

-(/)-

Time passed as it had the habit of doing so when one wasn't looking.

The mortal woman in her court spoke in calm voice, power leaking out. She had dark curls for hair and darker lipstick. A grunt man was to her right, wielding a gun. Frigga recalled Thor speaking of such weapons and how they were ineffective against Asgardians. Behind the woman were three robed beings, of which Frigga assumed to be human like the rest.

Madame Kovarian appeared moments ago to seek an audience, claiming to be from the future. Odin was starting to dislike time travelers.

"This is a pivotal point in the timeline," Madame Kovarian said, "of which we have no doubt that your son will return to."

"Go on," instructed Odin from his throne. "What proof do you have that Loki is alive?"

"One of my subordinates has come with recent contact with your son and paid a terrible price."

Frigga stood beside the throne. Her outside nature reflected calm grace, but her insides felt dead and quiet. In the past year, many have claimed to know the true whereabouts of her son. It did not help that Odin was convinced that Loki remained alive.

"You seek retribution?" Odin asked.

It sounded like Loki, yet without proof, Frigga remained cautious and skeptical.

Madame Kovarian grinned, and something coiled in the pit of Frigga's stomach. She should not trust the woman.

"No. I seek the Doctor. My subordinate also came in contact with the Doctor. He is my only interest."

Time froze for her Frigga. The puzzle and its pieces became clear. She assumed that Loki managed to set himself on fire rather than to face the remaining punishment or that one of his many enemies got to him first. The Doctor was reported dead, distracting Frigga from seeing clearly. The Doctor built the cell, so he possessed the means to the destroy it. He had reason to help Loki, so why not?

"You must be mistaken," spoke Odin, "the Doctor is dead."

"We tried," responded Madame Kovarian. "He eluded us and started erasing his existence from all the knowledge in time and space. Tracking him has been exceedingly difficult. Yet with firsthand knowledge that he is with your son that you seek," she trailed off, letting Odin conclude on his own.

"And what is it that you want from me?"

"A joint force," she said simply. "Finding the duo is beneficial to us both. I have access to time travel technology, and you are Loki's family."

That damn grin curled on the mortal's lips. Before Odin could speak, Frigga politely intervened.

"I am afraid that my husband and I need time to discuss this matter privately. Family affairs are irksome and personal business." She smiled sweetly. "Please, allow my servants to show you to some temporary quarters."

When they left, Odin turned to his wife sharply, but she spoke first.

"Do not tell me you cannot feel it. They practically radiate… I do not know, but it is not well!"

"And if they are our only chance to locate Loki? And if the Doctor is responsible for his escape, he needs to be punished as well."

"You speak the truth," Frigga supposed. "We need to see the evidence. Intangible words do Asgard no good."

-(/)-

A frail, cloaked woman entered the court, carried by the grunt man accompanying Madame Kovarian. Her bruised knees hit the throne room floor.

"Remove the hood," instructed Madame Kovarian.

The grunt pulled away the victim's cloak. The reveal sent shock escaping Frigga's throat.

It wasn't the disheveled, scarred flesh. It wasn't the singed patches of hair on her scalp. Frigga had breathed war before, even before her time as Asgard's queen. The victim could not speak, for she had no tongue. The victim could not see, for her sockets were empty.

Frigga remained very still beside her husband. Odin resisted the urge to grip tightly the arms of the throne. What monstrosities has Loki committed now?

"This is Stellana Blackburn, hailing from Asteroid Belt Zeta Two-One-Five, and victim of your son's torment."

"You found her in this state?"

Stellanna nodded feverishly.

"Without words or visuals, how can she confirm the culprit to be Loki?"

For a moment, Madame Kovarian looked ready to slap the king, but a smile quickly replaced the deadly expression. Frigga knew her type, a woman in control of the situation.

"We possess the technology to access the mind's memories." Madame Kovarian snapped her fingers.

The man retrieved a flat tablet from his upper coat pocket. He pressed a button. Out from the tablet, an image smoked into the air, taking form of what Stellana can now only envision in nightmares. It confirmed what Frigga and Odin feared.

Wickedly grinning. Beyond mischief and trickery, the adopted blood of Odinson had changed to a much darker shape. Rage, hatred, and vengeance haphazardly stitch together to form the gleam in his eyes. He brandished a dagger, and cooed at Stellana.

" _Awake now, are we? Good, good. This will only hurt a little_." A deep chuckle echoed from his lips. " _Well, I am known for lying_."

Frigga turned her head away from the image, not being able to bare more of it. She saw the Stellana crumpled helplessly into a ball on the floor.

"Cease playing it," Frigga ordered. "We have seen enough."

Madame Kovarian nodded, and the man pressed a button, stopping it.

"What is Loki's connection to the Doctor?" Odin asked.

"On the planet my subordinate was stationed, she witnessed the two together. We can play—"

"It is unnecessary," said Frigga.

Striking an alliance to find them felt wrong. Yet they needed each other, and Frigga desperately wanted her son back in her home.

-(/)-

Madame Kovarian survived the timeline created by River Song failing to kill the Doctor. She remembered it in its entirety. Knowing the Doctor to be a tricky demon, and most likely ready to erase his existence if he survived, she prepared herself. Using technology from the time agency and the Silence, they were able to contain the memories of the Doctor while others forgotten the Time Lord.

The Silence was determined. The fate of the universe, all of the universes, relied on the Doctor dying. Madame Kovarian was to do whatever needed to ensure that they found the Doctor. Even if it meant harming one of their own and tweaking her memories.

-(/)-

Making a visit from Midgard, Thor met with his mother in the garden. She sniffed the rose bushes, breathing in the sweet scent. There were moon-roses. White until touched, then becoming a luminescent blue. They reminded her of her younger son. She smiled at Thor's approach.

Thor marveled at the joy and woe his mother could possess simultaneously.

"Loki is alive."

Thor brightened with joy, becoming the sun of her world. He soon had his mother in a bear tight hug before releasing her.

"This is great!" His voice boomed. "Why so sullen?"

She sighed and shook her head. Another mystery to his mother.

"I am afraid his demons grip him even tighter. They suffocate him," she said softly.

"Then we must save him."

Thor spoke without hesitation, as if it were the simplest and obvious thing. To him, it was. Loki needed saving. That was that. Frigga loved him all the more for it.

"He travels throughout time and space with the Doctor. It will not be easy," she warned.

Thor laughed. "More great news if the Doctor lives. When shall we start searching for them?"

Frigga shook her head, and Thor became curious.

"My sources recommend staying on Midgard to seek the Doctor. He does not stray far from that realm for long. I suggest enlisting the assistance of the warriors there. Find your brother."

Thor became smiles, happy to know his brother escaped death. Frigga did not dare tell him of the true demon Loki had become.

"It will be done. I will not fail this time. I promise you my life."

-(/)-

The threads are woven, tighter and tighter, fraying at the ends.


	11. Interrupted Routine

A routine was set. A line of events that became repeated and normal. Good or bad. Mundane or exciting. As always, the routines break.

  
**Chapter Ten:**  Interrupted Routine

The river was white and wide. It gushed, foaming and bubbling with a fierce current. Trees sprouted by the riverside, and rocks dotted the landscape. This river was in Asgard, and sneaking to see Fenrir was a dangerous task. Yet nobody thought that Loki would come to rescue his son from his chain.

The TARDIS landed upstream on a rocky island in the middle of the river. Loki stepped out of the blue box, a rare benevolent smile on his face.

"Son," he announced, "I am here to," but something was amiss, "… free you."

The island was empty of life save he and the Doctor. The god stared blankly at the broken chain left in the middle of the island. Loki swallowed his confusion. His son was gone, and he was going to fix that. Loki knelt, examining the broken chain on the ground.

It appeared to have been broken by a mighty force, but singed as well.

"Impossible," Loki muttered.

These chains were created by powerful magic, the only object capable of restraining Fenrir's rage.

"It would have taken a great sorcerer to undo the magic on these chains, but…" Loki squinted. It didn't look like the work of magic.

"Basically, you'd have to be the one to free him?" The Doctor tilted his head, eyeing the chains curiously. Ancient rune symbols glowed lightly as Loki picked up the chain. He studied the broken ends.

Loki tuned the Doctor out as he felt his breath slip away. His son was gone. Missing. Loki closed his eyes, trying to think of ways he could track his son. He gripped the chain tightly, feeling it cut into his flesh.

"Is it just me," the Doctor asked, "or does it look like the lightning struck it?"

Loki snapped open his eyes. He raised his head and took in the scenery surrounding the river. The trees were bent and frayed. Some split open. Rocks were crumbled and smashed liked tiny playthings.

Fenrir went fighting.

Chain still in hand, Loki pivoted and stormed back inside the TARDIS. Loki stood at the controls, eyeing them. Seeing the rage practically roll off Loki, the Doctor scrambled to slip between Loki and panel. He pushed his arms out, getting the god to take a few steps back.

"I must have a word with my brother; take me to Midgard," Loki instructed.

The Doctor held up a finger. "One, she is not a taxi service." Two fingers. "Two, give a sec to simmer down. We don't know for sure if—"

"Who else?" Loki snapped angrily. "Who! He has the power. The pure brute strength  _blessed_ to him by Mjolnir and royal blood!"

"Just calm down. You're dangerous when you don't think things through."

Loki stepped forward, grabbed the Doctor by the shoulders and tossed him against the wall. "This is the one thing that he  _won't_  take away from me."

He hadn't a clue how to operate the TARDIS. "Come on, take me to my brother," he ordered it.

The Doctor groaned; his bones cracking as he pushed himself up to standing position. But he was too late. He could only watch as Loki pressed green glowing against the controls.

-(/)-

Five months passed since Thor learned that his brother still lived. Five months since he beseeched his comrades to aid him in keeping an open eye. Five fruitless months.

Thor settled into his new life in Midgard easily enough. People always overestimated his ignorance and his slow learning, but Thor didn't mind. His enemies knew better than to overestimate his prowess in the battlefield. He had a room in Stark Tower.

When not helping quell the upsurge of villains, Thor spent his time searching. He roamed the streets of Albany to the grassy hills of Iceland. His searches brought him back to Stark Tower, empty handed.

Once he brought Loki home, Thor planned to live with Jane who now worked for SHIELD. Jane didn't care for all the time Thor spent chasing after Loki. She sometimes reminded him that Loki attempted Thor's death on multiple occasions, but did her best to remain patient.  _He is my brother_ , Thor would often remind her, as if that should explain everything. Ever since the invasion, Tony often alternated between his home in California and his tower in New York.

-(/)-

Tony provided his own method of searching for a dangerous criminal. It equaled instructing JARVIS to do it for him while Tony spent his hours designing and building Mark VIII. He also may have hacked into several databases. Director Fury gave up on reprimanding him months ago.

After a day spent in oil and sweat, Tony would ask JARVIS if there were any signs. The answer was always a negative. And after each answer, Tony shrugged and waltzed off into the kitchen for a midnight snack.

-(/)-

The new twenty-first century life was odd for Steve. Yet he found similarities and comfort in it. He still enjoyed the pizza. He was still a soldier. There were still baddies to fight and a team to lead.

When not fighting villains, Steve found himself in front of a sketch book or easel with Peggy looking back at him. He's designed over a hundred dresses with Peggy in them, picturing her wearing each one to their date that never happened. The paintings are taped to his bedroom walls in his little apartment next to Stark Tower. He can't seem to find the right smile suited just for her.

Thor said Loki was out there, alive and with the Doctor. The Doctor, a Time Lord, a man who could travel anywhere in time and space. Steve hated the jealous feeling in his gut. Loki, of all the people in the universe, managed to become the one to travel with the Doctor. Why Loki?

-(/)-

Clint and Natasha were assigned to the Avengers shortly after the invasion and the rising amount of villains. Who knew they had that many crazies gunning for New York's ( and occasionally the world's) destruction? They still took the occasional mission from SHIELD.

When Thor informed the group of Loki being alive, Natasha went directly to Director Fury. The way she saw it, the more prepared they were for his return, the better. With SHIELD also looking out for the crazy god and the Time Lord, it also increased their chances of finding Loki.

Clint spent his free time atop buildings and cleaning his weapons.

-(/)-

No one saw much of Bruce, as he often preferred time alone. But his routine was very,  _very_  important.

Bruce knew that Loki wouldn't be found easily. The Trickster would only be found if he wanted it that way or if he screwed up. Thus Bruce went about his daily life. He lived in Stark Tower, left in charge whenever Tony traveled back to California. Bruce spent most of his time in his room or holed up in one of the labs.

Bruce often noticed the little details along with the larger picture. That's what made him a scientist and helped control his anger. Yet the miniscule clues in front of him slipped in front of his eyes but shimmied out his brain.

While waiting for the test results from his latest project, Bruce decided to relax. He leaned back in his chair and sipped some stale, day old coffee. He picked up and read an old newspaper from his desk.

The headline drew a sigh from the scientist. Lately, he had been following the achievements of a detective from England. Not too long ago the detective had been exposed as a fraud, but Bruce has his suspicions that the detective was framed. Bruce shook his head. According to the newspaper, Sherlock Holmes took a nosedive off a building's roof. It was a shame.

The timer beeped, signaling that the results were done. Bruce took a sip of his coffee setting the newspaper down. If he had continued reading, Bruce would have seen that stock in Wayne Enterprises was decreasing. Even if he had, Bruce wouldn't have been able to make the connections.

The importance behind these two articles would never be known to him.

-(/)-

Sometimes, in their little routine, Steve would call in the group for family dinner. This would be one of the days that Tony would be in from California. That Natasha and Clint weren't on SHIELD related business. That someone managed to talk Bruce out of his lab of zen. That Thor wasn't out walking the Earth in search of his Midgard. The rare days that they were all together.

Tonight it was only them, the Avengers without any significant others. Sometimes it was nice like this. It reminded Steve of the aftermath of the Chitauri Invasion. Eating a meal with comrades always felt relieving. Nowadays, meal time was noisier than silently eating shawarma.

Thor, Clint and Tony are the most vocal of the table, tending to lead the majority of the conversations. Sometimes Bruce and Natasha would quietly talk to one another at their end of the table. There would be moments when Tony and Bruce babble off "science talk," leaving the others in awe or annoyance. Most of the time, it was the latter.

Tonight, Clint teased about how satisfied must Tony must feel with Wayne Enterprises no longer being competition. Tony rolled his eyes, trying to say that he felt pity for Wayne, but Steve piped up.

"Wait, Wayne Enterprises? The  _Wayne_  family? Dr. Thomas and Martha Wayne are still alive?"

"Just their kiddo Brucie," Tony explained.

"Took a real nosedive after the murder of his parents," Clint continued and jerked a thumb at Tony. "Imagine Stark here, but add more playboy and minus the superhero. Keep the ego, though."

"He kept up the charities," their own Bruce added, "that his parents had in place. He also donates to orphanages, I believe."

Steve looked sullen, that hurt expression of a once eager puppy. His lips moved, liked they were ready say something, maybe about how great the Waynes were and he couldn't believe they were killed. Although his lips made the motion, no words came out, and he stopped.

Tony quickly moved to a new topic.

"How'd the mission go?" Tony asked Natasha and Clint. "The one where SHIELD sent you to talk to Torchwood," he clarified.

Natasha shot him the "please stop hacking into SHIELD" look, but shrugged. "No news on the Doctor or Loki on that end. They're as clueless as we are."

A big shit-eating grin plastered on his face, Clint leaned back and propped his boots on the table. "You won't friggin' believe this one," he announced loudly.

Thor looked up from his plate at Clint's loud words. The god had been oddly quiet, most likely in one of his melancholy moods from not finding his brother.

"So here we are in Cardiff. Nat is meeting up with this one guy who calls himself Captain Jack Harkness in an empty bar. I'm in the next building over, scoping out a window in case the situation heads down south.

"This captain is hitting on her. No words needed. He simply  _exudes_  with the desire to sleep with just about anyone. Nat's handling it pretty well, when  _bam!_ " Clint was suddenly in upright position and his hands slammed down on the table. "Nat shoots him square dead."

All the attention quickly shifted from the sharpshooter to Natasha Romanoff. She gave tiny shrug.

"Clint's face was priceless."

The table went surprisingly quiet and all eyes went directly to their resident assassin.

"Clint's face," Tony repeated in a deadpan voice. " _Clint's_  face. Not the dead guy's on the floor?"

"Oh, he came back to life," Natasha said.

Before anyone had time to question her nonchalant statement, a foreign noise interrupted dinner.

The mechanics of the TARDIS, the call which announced the arrival of a mad man, occurred in the living quarters of the top room in Stark Tower. They all stilled, eyeing each other. Could it be? Had they spent all this time searching and their answer simply entered their home?

Thor, who had been unusually quiet during dinner, bolted like a madman. One thought in mind:  _Loki can come now._

Like a twig snapping, their routine broke.

-(/)-

As a kid, when the Doctor wore his old face, Loki could hear the TARDIS humming. Almost like a lullaby of ancient times. Now, it  _hurt_. Lullabies replaced with chants of war and curses. Coarse energy rippled through Loki's veins as he gripped the TARDIS tight and didn't let go. One singular thought ran through his brain:  _take me to Thor_.

Thor. Such anger and hatred blinding Loki's thoughts.

Thor. Who received all the glory and the attention. Who casted an inescapable shadow. Who left Loki.

Thor. Who had everything. Who now took his son.

Loki heard the Doctor yelling at him. Telling him he was being irrational. But who else? The chain which can be smashed with only a mighty force. The trees struck with lightning. The magic runes that could only be unraveled with great sorcery or by the same royal blood which bound them to the chain. Who else?

The TARDIS screamed in his ears, but bent to his will.

It halted. They landed. Loki quickly brought his hands off the TARDIS, the glow fading. He huffed, a glanced at the Doctor.

"Don't." The one simple plea from the Doctor.

Loki shook his head. Within a second, he was footstep away from the exit. Despite the steam and the anger, three words quietly exited his mouth before he opened the door.

"Please, forgive me."

The door opened, revealing that the TARDIS landed in the same spot from nearly a year ago. Thor was there, waiting. In the distance, the Avengers could be heard following suit. Loki narrowed his eyes and strutted out in a brisk line to Thor.

Loki's magic seeped into the air around him, becoming chilled. Frost nipped at the windows. Never before had he felt so powerful—so out of control. Had the dream-life awaken his inner-jotun? Had his rage diminished his control?

Thor appeared slightly shaky, almost scared. If it were another time, Loki would have relished in it.

A few feet away from Thor, Loki demanded an answer.

"Where. Is. My. Son?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? A Batman and Sherlock cameo? The world's greatest detectives possibly leaving clues as to what the hell is happening? Five internet points to whoever can deduce what's going on with that.


End file.
